A Plague of Serpents
by Speaker-to-Customers
Summary: Sequel to 'Debt of Blood'. The Goa'uld have discovered Toril. Anubis seeks to attain true godhood and to get vengeance on Shar. A young priestess, on a seemingly unimportant mission, has to battle against prejudice as well as savage and brutal foes.
1. Fragile Thing

Disclaimer: 'Neverwinter Nights 2: Storm of Zehir' is the property of Atari, Obsidian Entertainment, Wizards of the Coast Inc., and Hasbro. Song lyrics quoted at the beginnings of chapters are credited there; other uses of song lyrics will receive credit at the end of the chapters in which they appear.

Author's note: this story is part of a series and isn't intended as a stand-alone. You need at least some knowledge of 'Tabula Avatar', 'The Whole of the Moon', and 'Debt of Blood' to follow everything in this one. A couple of characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', who are major characters in 'Tabula Avatar', will appear in this story, although in fairly minor roles, and it will be several chapters before they appear; the same applies to SG-1, who are the central characters in 'Debt of Blood'.

It takes place about 5 years after 'Tabula Avatar', and 3 years after 'Debt of Blood', and contains some spoilers for forthcoming chapters of 'Tabula Avatar'. However the characters in this one come from 1,200 miles north of Athkatla and they don't have any firsthand knowledge of events there; the spoilers are things they picked up from rumors and may be seriously inaccurate. Although one of them has seen Giles play live…

**Chapter One: Fragile Thing**

_You see her now, all tired and worn  
She never thought her life would come to be so cold or so alone  
She walked in the light_

_Fought bondage for love  
She said I cast off the chains that I was born with but it never was enough..._

(Big Country, _Ships_)

"You are Kelleth Gill the ranger, I believe?" The speaker was female, her accent that of Neverwinter, her voice pleasant of tone. "Recruiting companions for a voyage to Samarach in Chult?"

"That's me," Kelleth confirmed. He set down his goblet, leaned back in his chair, and ran his gaze over the woman who stood beside his table. Human, slim of build and fairly tall, clad in scale armor and with a mace belted at her hip. Probably a priestess. Her armor was covered by a purple tabard with a picture printed on the cloth; the faces of a human male, a drow female, and a dwarf, and below the images was the legend 'The Rupert Giles Experience'.

"I'd like to join your group, if you will have me," the girl offered. "I have some experience in adventuring, I am a skilled healer, and my goddess has commanded that I travel to Samarach."

"I certainly have a vacancy for a healer," Kelleth said, "but I'll have to know a little more about you before I make a decision." The girl's face was obscured by the helm that she wore, its nasal guard and cheek pieces hiding everything except for her eyes and mouth, but he could see piercing blue eyes and guessed that she'd be young and pretty behind the mask. He smiled at her. "I like to be able to see who I'm talking to," he told her. "I'd appreciate it if you took off the helmet."

"Of course," said the girl, "but you will probably ask me to replace it immediately." She pulled the helmet from her head and a mass of long blonde hair fell free.

"That's…" Kelleth began, and then he saw her face. She was young, certainly, but no-one would call her pretty. A score of pockmarks and scars disfigured her skin. The centre of her forehead was tattooed with a purple triangle containing three yellow-orange teardrop shapes. He could feel the smile freezing on his lips. "…better," he continued, trying unsuccessfully to conceal his reaction.

"You almost managed to say that as if you meant it," the girl said. She smiled, showing even white teeth, and poised the helmet over her head. "I know I'm not a pleasant sight. Should I put the helm back on?"

"I… no," said the ranger. He took a deep breath and managed to return his expression to a passable facsimile of his normal smile. "I can… judge you better when I can see your whole face."

"And the verdict is…?"

"Well, we do need a cleric," Kelleth said, "and you have the air of a competent one. The problem is your affiliation. The tattoo on your brow is the mark of Talona, is it not?"

"It is," the girl confirmed. "I am a Young Venom in the priesthood of Talona." She fixed him with a steady stare. "I fail to see why that should be a problem."

Kelleth's eyebrows climbed. "You are a priestess of the goddess of disease and poison. I'm a follower of Eldath, the Lady of Singing Waters, the Mistress of Peace. I would think that some conflict of interests would be fairly inevitable."

The girl shook her head. "That will not be the case. I am charged with assisting you to the best of my ability no matter what the situation. As long as you give Talona due respect, and acknowledge that disease can lay low the strongest, there will be no conflict. Your mission is the important thing."

"My mission?" His eyebrows ascended further. "I'm putting together a small group to watch over a writer on a trip to an exotic foreign land, to make sure that he doesn't get eaten by leopards or whatever while he's gathering local color, and that's pretty much it. A simple bodyguard job. I wouldn't even say it qualifies as being a mission worthy of the name. Have you, perhaps, confused me with someone else?"

"I don't see any other rangers called Kelleth around," the girl responded. Her lips parted in a broad smile. "Do you?"

Kelleth made a show of glancing around the tavern room and then looked back at the priestess. "Good point," he said. This girl might be a worshipper of a goddess who delighted in human suffering but she seemed to have a sense of humor. He used a foot to push out a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Take a seat," he suggested, and the priestess sat down and laid her helm on the table. "What's your name?"

"Chantry," she told him. "Chantry Linton."

"Okay, Chantry," Kelleth said, "Explain to me, if you will, why my little voyage would come to the attention of your goddess. Is Volothamp Geddarm far more important than I thought? His _Guides_ are interesting and useful, and I was impressed by his biography of Sorkatani and history of the Bhaalspawn Wars, but I don't see how that would make him significant enough for his well-being to matter to a deity."

"I don't think it's Volo himself who's important," Chantry said. "I got the impression that he only matters as a way of getting you to go to Samarach." She shrugged. "I could be wrong. High Priestess Sumia didn't give me all the background. I'm fairly low down in the hierarchy."

Kelleth shifted in his seat. "The thought that I might have some sort of mystic destiny makes me rather uncomfortable," he said. "I just want to stay alive, do a bit of good for the world, and make enough money in the process to support myself. I'll leave the Destiny thing to people like the Knight-Captain, or Drizzt Do'Urden, or Sorkatani."

"As Sorkatani is dead, and the Knight-Captain missing presumed dead, I see your point," Chantry said. "However I don't think you are any kind of pre-destined hero, fulfilling a prophecy, or anything like that. I think you're just somebody in the right place at the right time."

"Wasn't that the case for the Knight-Captain?"

Chantry shrugged again. "Perhaps, although I gather there was something mystical about her birth. If you do have a destiny you will not be able to fight it."

"Hmm." Kelleth picked up his goblet and took a sip of his wine. The thought of Destiny was not a pleasant one but, as Chantry had said, there was little or nothing that he could do about it. He put the matter aside. "So, that is why you wish to join this expedition. Now persuade me that I should employ you."

"You're going to a tropical jungle," Chantry said. "It will be crawling with disease-carrying insects, venomous snakes, spiders, centipedes, and probably worse things. I'm immune to disease and highly resistant to poison. I won't fall sick and be out of action when you need me."

"Immune to disease?" Kelleth's gaze rested on the plague marks on Chantry's face. "Then those…" He chopped himself off short and felt his cheeks flaming with embarrassment at his lack of tact. He should have kept his deduction, that the scars were the result of a Talonan initiation ceremony, to himself rather than starting to blurt it out. "Sorry."

"There is no need to watch your words with me, Kelleth," Chantry said. "I'm used to it. You wonder about these marks? I had no immunities then. I was not yet a priestess of Talona when I contracted the Wailing Death."

Kelleth rocked back in his seat and clenched his teeth. The Wailing Death had killed more than a tenth of the population of Neverwinter. Almost no-one who had been infected had survived. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"Why apologize? It was not you who brought the plague," said Chantry.

"That wasn't…" Kelleth began. He stopped. If Chantry was sensitive about her appearance then anything more he said would only make things worse; if she really was as unconcerned as she claimed then no harm had been done. "I agree that you could make a valuable contribution to my group," he said instead. "I take it that you have skills in combat as well as in healing?"

"I can fight," Chantry confirmed. "Not as well as you, if what I have heard of your deeds in the Shadow War are correct, but I shall not be a liability in battle."

"I did no great deeds," Kelleth said, "but I held my own. I can hit what I aim at with a bow and I can handle a sword as well as most men. Very well, then, the job is yours if you want it. I must warn you, however, that the pay is not generous. Our expenses will be covered but little more. I hope to earn something on the side through hunting, if time allows, and if so you will receive a share."

"The money is of little interest to me," said Chantry. "The Church has provided me with funds for my passage and the necessities of life. I won't turn down pay, or a share of goods or treasure, but it's not what counts."

Kelleth closed his left eye and pursed his lips. "I had thought to recruit only two party members, Aysgarth the Mage and one other, but if you have funds for your own passage I could afford to take on a third companion. A rogue, I think; no doubt the jungle will be full of pitfalls and arrow traps."

"A wise decision," Chantry agreed, "if, that is, you think that you can find one who won't steal all our possessions and run off leaving us stranded and penniless in the jungle."

"There is a halfling rogue in town who I have worked with before," Kelleth told her, "and he has always been trustworthy. Thorpe Underwood."

"Oh? I've never met a halfling who I'd trust with a bent copper piece," Chantry said, "but I will bow to your judgment. Hopefully it will not result in me ending up weaponless and unarmored in front of a charging panther."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Whatever possessed you to take on that girl?" Aysgarth asked. The young wizard poked the brim of his pointy hat with a finger, tilting it back on his head, and looked up at the ranger. "A Talonan Venom? Evil and ugly. The worst of both worlds."

"I don't think she's evil," Kelleth said. "She's a very well-mannered young lady, in fact, and she seems to have a sense of humor. I rather liked her." He unbuckled the belt that held his rapier's scabbard and hung the weapon from the brass bedstead.

"She was pleasant enough, I grant you, but surely you could have found someone equally pleasant in manner but more pleasant to look upon," Aysgarth went on. "A priestess of your own deity, for instance, or a Lliiran."

"None such volunteered," Kelleth said, "and Chantry did. We need a healer. We have one, and I think a very skilled one, and I'm not going to turn her away merely because she has scars on her face. This is not a pleasure trip."

"Indeed so," said Aysgarth, "but neither is it a vital mission on which the fate of Faerûn depends. There would be no harm in making it as enjoyable as possible. Ah, well, better a Talontar than a flighty and brainless Sunite." He leaned his wizard staff against the wall and took off his pointy hat.

"Better almost anyone, apart from a Cyric worshipper, rather than a follower of Sune," Kelleth grunted. He sat down on his bed and began to pull off his boots.

"Perhaps so," said Aysgarth. "At least a Talontar will not fly into a panic if she breaks a nail or is marked by the sting of an insect."

"I have the impression," Kelleth said, "that Chantry will stand firm at our sides if we face lions, or wyverns, or even the giant reptiles of Chult."

"You could well be right," Aysgarth agreed. "A more desirable quality than being good to look upon. It is greedy of me to want everything in one package."

"It will be no different than if I had recruited a male priest," Kelleth said, "except that there will be some need for privacy when relieving ourselves or bathing."

"If, that is, there are any rivers not infested with crocodiles in which to bathe," said Aysgarth. "Very well, then, I shall treat her as if she was a male comrade and stop my petty complaints. Unless, of course, she slips some deadly poison into our breakfast."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Chantry hung her scale armor on the stand, stepped back, and began to strip off her clothes. Her gray-green Talonan shift, that by custom could not be replaced until it fell apart completely, was faded and threadbare. She pulled it over her head, set it down on the bed, and unfastened her lacy black Anya's Secret 'Joybringer' bra.

It was a luxury room, a single, not because Chantry was extravagant but because inn patrons usually objected to sharing rooms with a Talontar. There was a dressing table and even a mirror. Chantry caught sight of her reflection as the bra fell away and exposed her breasts.

At first sight an onlooker would have thought that she had seven nipples. Five of them were, in reality, massive pockmarks. A score of smaller marks were scattered across the skin. Below her breasts, firm and shapely but made ugly by the scarring, more pits and blemishes covered her belly all the way down until they disappeared under her panties.

Chantry clenched her fists. "So horrible," she whispered. "No man will ever desire me."

She thought of the tall ranger, lithe as a panther, with his ready smile and kind eyes. Broad shoulders, arms corded with muscle from endless hours of pulling a longbow, slim hips and long legs. Hands calloused from use of bow and sword yet gentle and deft. A good man and strong. And yet, like any other man, if he was here now and saw her in her state of undress he would recoil in revulsion.

"I will never have a husband," Chantry bemoaned. "My fate was sealed when I fell victim to the Wailing Death." Or perhaps before that, when the other acolytes at the Temple of Sune had fled the city in terror or hidden themselves away, and Chantry had chosen to stay and do what she could to tend the plague victims. Until she had caught the disease herself. Disfigured and dying, and rejected by her goddess of beauty, she had been brought back from the brink of death by a priestess of Talona. There were times, many of them, when Chantry wished that she'd just been left to die.

"I must accept it and endure. I have my goddess and that must be enough," Chantry told herself. "I will never have a family. My vocation, and my duty to the Church, is all that I will ever have. I will always be alone." She slipped off her panties, donned her shift once more, and climbed into bed. She blew out the candle, curled herself up under the covers, and tried to get to sleep.

She sniffled for a while. If she'd been a different sort of person she might have cried herself to sleep but that wasn't her style. Instead she gave rein to the frustration and anger that she'd been holding back during the evening, when she'd been taking care to act pleasantly for the interview, and began to think about ways of killing people. Her tears dried. She finally drifted off to sleep, a contented smile on her face, in the middle of a hypothetical plan to replace the inn's stock of horseradish with an equally fiery sauce made from aconite.


	2. Where were you when my ship went down?

**Chapter Two: Where were you when my ship went down?**

_So where were you when my ship went down?_

_Where were you when I ran aground?_

_Where were you when I turned it around?_

_Where were you when they burned me down?_

(Big Country, _Ships_)

Lips on hers, soft but firm, sending heat blazing through her. Strong hands holding her. The lips drew away and Chantry opened her eyes. It was dark but she could see his face clearly. She raised her arms to embrace him. "Kelleth," she murmured.

Or tried to. Pain shot through her chest and something surged upward within her. She turned her face aside and coughed. Water spurted from her mouth and her nose, painfully, and she coughed again and retched. More water gushed out. She expelled water until there was no more left and then gasped for breath.

"Wh-what happened?" she croaked out.

"The ship hit the rocks and broke up," Kelleth explained. "Your armor dragged you down."

"My armor?" Chantry's voice rasped in her throat and she coughed again. She realized that she was soaking wet, cold, and wore nothing over her shift. She was lying on sand.

"I had to cut the straps to get it off you," Kelleth said. "It's at the bottom of the sea."

She propped herself up on an elbow and gazed at him. It was night and, although there was a bright moon, his face was in shadow and his expression was hard to read. She could feel her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, as she remembered her response to his Kiss of Life, and hoped that the darkness was obscuring her own expression equally. "You saved my life."

"Uh, yes, I suppose I did," Kelleth said. He shrugged. "We'll probably save each other's lives a dozen times in the course of this, uh, mission."

"Starting in a few minutes, I would think," put in another voice. Aysgarth. Chantry turned her head and saw the wizard standing a few feet away. His pointy hat was missing and his robes were dripping. He turned to glance at something behind him and then looked back at Chantry. "Are you well enough to fight?"

"Just… give me… a moment," Chantry wheezed. She cast a curative spell on herself and the pain in her chest and throat eased. She sat up. "I'll manage. What's going on?"

"Batiri," said Aysgarth. "The Samarach version of goblins. We seem to be in their territory and there's a whole tribe assembled on the beach." He grimaced. "They dragged the captain and the mate away before you woke up. Volo's trying to negotiate with the Batiri now. I doubt if he'll achieve much. We don't exactly have much to bargain with."

"Or to fight with," said Kelleth. He tapped his hip. "I had to abandon my sword. My bow's unusable and I've lost all my arrows. There's some debris washed ashore. I've sent Thorpe scavenging through it but he hasn't come up with anything useful yet. Maybe he might find something you could use as a club."

Chantry grimaced and clambered to her feet. "Priestesses of Talona are trained in unarmed combat," she told Kelleth. "Maybe I wouldn't last five seconds against Light of Heavens, or Khelgar, but I should be able to cope with goblins."

"They're bigger than the ones we're used to," Aysgarth cautioned her, "and you'll be vulnerable without armor."

"But able to move faster," Chantry said, "and, if I remember right, the Batiri don't wear armor either. Anyway, it's not like I have a choice."

"True," Kelleth agreed. "Ah, here's Thorpe."

The halfling's arms were full. "Two short swords," he reported. "I found a pack with scroll cases in it. Yours, I think, Aysgarth? Also a few potion bottles. Unfortunately I've no idea what's in them."

"Leave that to me," Chantry said.

"You're the expert," the halfling agreed. He handed her the vials and then passed Aysgarth the pack. The wizard opened it hastily and pulled out a scroll case.

"The seal has held," he reported. He checked another one. "And on this. With these, and the spells I have memorized, I can give a good account of myself."

"That is just as well," Kelleth said, as he took a short sword from Thorpe and ran through a practice thrust and withdrawal, "as we are hardly a formidable force." He scowled. "I am used to a longer blade. Still, this will have to do."

Chantry examined the potions. "Three of Cure Moderate Wounds," she declared, "and one Bull's Strength." She proffered the Cure potions to Kelleth, who kept one and passed the others on to Aysgarth and Thorpe, but held on to the other bottle. "I have ample Cures prepared," she said, "but, if it's okay with you, I'll keep the Strength potion."

Kelleth nodded. "Of course." He pulled a dagger from his boot and offered it, hilt first, to Chantry. "Am I right that priestesses of Talona are permitted daggers?"

"Permitted, yes," Chantry confirmed, "although they're supposed to be envenomed. We don't train with them, though, and I'd rather just stick with bare hands."

"As you wish," Kelleth said. He reversed the knife and adopted a duelist's stance. "Volo's negotiations don't seem to be going well. My guess is we'll be fighting within minutes."

Chantry looked around, and along the beach to where the writer stood parleying with a group of the goblins, and then looked in the other direction. She clenched her teeth and turned back to Kelleth. "Is this all there are of us?" she asked. She estimated the goblin numbers as over forty but she could count her own side on her fingers.

One sailor lass, clad in a ring-mail jerkin, holding a belaying pin in a trembling hand. A dwarf passenger, a dour character who had kept himself to himself throughout the voyage, who had managed to retain his armor despite the shipwreck and who wielded a long-sword with the air of someone who knew how to use it. Luaire, the representative of the merchant company that had invited Volo to come to Samarach, a stammering, nervous, unworldly book-keeper; at least he seemed to be a mage of some sort so perhaps he wouldn't be a total liability. The four members of her own group. Volo. Only eight in total.

"Not quite all. Dalin has a bow," Thorpe said, referring to a halfling sailor, "and he wouldn't pass it over to us, so I told him to get up on those rocks and cover us from there." Chantry's gaze followed his pointing hand. At first she saw nothing, and suspected that the sailor had simply fled, but then she made out the small form crouching behind a boulder.

"Good thinking," Kelleth praised, "although I must admit I'd have been tempted to take the bow from him, willing or not, and make better use of it."

"It's a halfling short bow," Thorpe pointed out. "Not a lot of…" He broke off and tightened his grip on his sword. "Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good."

The parley, presumably taking place in some dialect of Goblin, was incomprehensible to Chantry but she could hear the pitch of Volo's voice rising as a note of desperation crept in. She opened the vial of Bull's Strength potion and raised it to her lips.

"Prepare yourselves," Kelleth said. "What spells do you have ready, Chantry?"

She drained the potion. "Mainly healing spells," she told him, "apart from Barkskin and Bless." She began the incantation of Barkskin, vaguely aware as she did so that Aysgarth was also chanting, and felt the protective covering forming.

Volo yelled, spun around, and ran. Batiri warriors pursued him. Arrows whizzed through the air. Kelleth raced to protect his employer. Chantry followed close behind and almost immediately she was caught up in a flurry of confused action.

She punched, kicked, caught and threw. Kelleth's sword flashed. A Batiri staggered away with hands clutching its belly. A shock ran through Chantry's arm as she landed a punch on a goblin's head and hit solid bone. Her next punch with that hand sent pain shooting up her arm. A broken bone. She backed away, kicking out to gain space, and cast a minor Cure spell to regain full use of the hand.

Her retreat had left Kelleth exposed on one flank. As he delivered a sword thrust a goblin hatchet swung and bit deep into his shoulder. Chantry saw him go down, falling to his knees, blood spurting from his wound and pooling on the sand. The Batiri hatchet-man whooped in triumph and raised his weapon for the _coup de grâce_.

Chantry bared her teeth and charged. She felled the goblin and stamped on its neck. Kelleth slumped forward and collapsed to lay face down in the sand. Chantry stood over him, snarling defiance, and held back the goblin horde. A Batiri war chief, man-high and wielding a two-handed axe, advanced with the weapon swinging menacingly. A smaller goblin attacked from the side with a short spear.

The axe-wielder jerked and cried out as an energy bolt from a Magic Missile struck him. The axe stroke went wild and the blade bit harmlessly into the sand. Thorpe went past Chantry in a diving roll. He came up inside the arc of the axe and stabbed the chieftain in the groin. Chantry seized the thrusting spear, tugged the goblin forward, and brought her knee up hard. She released the weapon as the creature doubled up and slammed her elbow down on the back of its neck. It dropped as if hit by a mace.

She had a moment free of attackers. She bent to Kelleth and cast her most powerful Cure spell. At once he began to scramble up and she had to move aside hastily.

"Thanks," Kelleth grunted. He scooped up his fallen sword and resumed his place in the battle line.

Not all the Batiri had joined in the attack, Chantry realized now, in fact probably less than a third of the tribe. Only a handful of survivors faced them now. They paused, jabbered, and then backed away. The dwarf strode forward, waving his sword, and Kelleth joined him. The goblins turned and fled.

"Is that the end of it?" Chantry wondered. "Have we won?"

Thorpe shook his head. "Doubt it," the halfling said. "That stupid sod," he pointed with his sword at the dead chieftain, "thought he could take us. The others stayed out of it. Trouble is, now we've killed that one some other bugger will probably want to prove that he's tougher than Dead Bloke was. Unless Volo can talk him out of it we're going to have to do this all over again."

"Ah, yes, I believe you are substantially correct," the writer said, approaching from the rear. He had come through the fight entirely unscathed. "Hopefully, however, our demonstration that we have, ah, teeth will show them that it would be in both our interests if they simply allowed us to depart peaceably."

"And give us Cap'n Lastri and the Mate back," the sailor girl put in.

"Indeed so," Volo said. He walked across the beach, empty hands raised, toward the main body of the Batiri.

"Let's search the bodies," Kelleth said. "Goblin gear is usually mediocre but it would be better than nothing." He picked up the chieftain's axe. "Stoneborn," he said to the dwarf, "how about swapping your sword for this?"

The dwarf seemed less than enthusiastic about the offer. Chantry left Kelleth to his attempted trade and approached the female sailor. "You're wounded," she said. "I'll fix you up."

"It's nothing," said the girl, although a rent in her armor revealed a gash along her side that was oozing blood. She backed away from Chantry.

"Are you crazy?" Chantry stared at the sailor. "You've been sliced open. It must hurt like blazes and you're bleeding badly enough that you'll probably pass out before long. Stop being a bloody idiot and let me heal you." Inside she was seething with fury. All through the voyage she'd met with the same attitude. In the sailors' eyes she was evil and ill-omened, to be feared and avoided, which was why she still hadn't learned any of their names even after more than two months on the ship. When one of them had eaten tainted food, and gone down with virulent food poisoning, they hadn't come to her; no, they'd let him die rather than ask the Talonan for help, even though she could have saved him with her hands tied behind her back.

"Don't touch me," the sailor said. "I don't need your help."

"Fine!" Chantry spat out. "Be like that. You can fuck off and die for all I care." She turned her back on the woman and walked away, conscious now that the rush of the fight had faded of the way the ground seemed to rise and fall beneath her, stumbling slightly on the uneven sand. Perhaps she might be able to find a shield, or a serviceable club or mace, on the dead Batiri.

"You idiot," Aysgarth scolded the sailor. "Take this potion – although you don't deserve it after the way you spoke to Chantry. Unfortunately we need you alive and able to fight." He went on to say more but Chantry was no longer listening.

"I've found you some armor," Kelleth said. He held up a buff coat made from some unidentifiable animal hide and stained by several smears of blood. "I think it will fit you."

Chantry grimaced, not being keen on wearing a goblin garment, but took the armor nonetheless. The Barkskin spell would be wearing off soon; better to stink, or even become infested by fleas, than to receive an arrow in the lung or a short-sword in the guts. She struggled into the heavy hide jerkin. It was broad enough for her shoulders, and long enough, but uncomfortably tight over her breasts. Kelleth had found a buckler for her, too, and a stone war club that wasn't too different from a mace.

Kelleth had searched a corpse and found a longbow, apparently of human make, and a quiver with a few arrows. He tested the draw of the weapon as Chantry was slipping her arm through the straps of the buckler. "Not bad," he said. "The next wave will not reach us without loss." He glanced over at Volo and the Batiri. "And, I think, that wave will be coming very soon," he said, and nocked an arrow.

Chantry cast her Bless spell. From near at hand came a 'pop' of displaced air as Aysgarth summoned a wolf to their aid. Seconds later a fainter 'pop' sounded as a Batiri shaman duplicated Aysgarth's spell and a second wolf appeared among the goblins.

"Snap," Thorpe commented, "only those buggers have another pet besides the wolf."

"What do you mean?" Chantry could see some sort of animal moving around behind the goblins but her night vision wasn't good enough to make out what it was. She knew the halfling could see far better in the dim light than a human and assumed that he saw it clearly.

There was no time for him to reply. Once more Volo yelled and fled from the goblin encampment. Again a horde of Batiri warriors followed at his heels. This time Volo didn't make his escape unscathed. He was staggering as he passed Kelleth, blood streaming down his face, his scalp laid open to the bone by a slingshot. Chantry slammed her club into the face of a pursuing goblin and gained a few seconds breathing space, which she used to cast a healing spell on Volo, before having to turn to fight off more of the Batiri.

Kelleth put an arrow through the slinger's throat and picked off two charging spearmen before he had to drop the bow and draw sword. The two summoned wolves collided in a frenzy of fur and fangs. Aysgarth used a scroll to cast a Fireball into the goblin formation.

This time the Batiri were attacking in full force. Thirty warriors, less those slain by arrow and spell as they charged, and a creature unlike anything Chantry had seen before. It held its body parallel to the ground, like a panther or a wolf, but walked on two legs with a long rigid tail held out behind it. Bigger than a man, but not greatly so; ten or twelve feet long, Chantry guessed. It had arms ending in talons like those of an eagle, a fanged maw resembling that of a dragon, and hide that bore both scales and feathers. One of the feared 'dinosaurs' of Chult, presumably, but Chantry was more concerned with trying to kill it than with identification and classification. An electric bolt from Aysgarth shocked it into temporary immobility. Kelleth hacked at its legs and it fell. Chantry smote it on the head with her stone club and it went limp.

A Batiri drove a spear into Chantry's shoulder and she cried out. The goblin shaman cast some unknown spell and Kelleth doubled up, retching, and dropped his sword. A goblin swordsman had slipped past them and was attacking Aysgarth, who was fending it off with a piece of driftwood as an improvised staff, preventing the wizard from aiding his comrades. Thorpe tried to protect Kelleth but was driven back by a Batiri chieftain wielding a two-handed war club. Chantry parried another spear thrust but lost her club in the process. The goblin drew back his spear to strike again.

A knife thudded into the goblin's throat and it toppled. "Take that, varlet!" Volo's voice called from behind Chantry. "Ah-hah! Well done me."

Chantry did not take time to thank him. She ignored her fallen weapon, ignored her wound, and rushed to Kelleth. The Batiri shaman was stabbing at him with a stone knife. Kelleth was parrying with his dagger but feebly, obviously partially incapacitated by the shaman's spell, and he had a bleeding gash across his cheek. Chantry slammed into the shaman from behind, knocking him from his feet, and kicked him as hard as she could as he went down. The Bull's Strength was still in effect and the kick was as damaging as a mace blow. The shaman didn't get up.

Chantry took a brief look at Kelleth, trying to determine if he had been poisoned or infected with a magical disease, but a pair of goblins interrupted her. She spin-kicked one; the other was shot in the back by the halfling sailor bowman. Chantry guessed at disease, cast an appropriate curative spell, and followed it up with a Lesser Restoration. Kelleth grinned, bent down to retrieve his sword, and returned to the fray with renewed vigor.

More goblins fell upon them and Chantry had no time to heal her wounded arm or do anything about the gash on Kelleth's face. She punched, dodged, kicked and punched again. The Barkskin spell expired, the Bull's Strength wore off, and still the goblins came on. Many of them lay dead upon the sand, though, and so far none of the shipwreck survivors had fallen. At last the surviving goblins began to waver and fall back.

"We've beaten them," yelled the dwarf. "Wipe the bastards out!" He brandished his sword above his head and ran in pursuit of the retreating Batiri.

"Wait!" the sailor girl shouted. "We need to find out where they took the Cap'n."

"Indeed so," Volo called. "We must take prisoners. Also, my headstrong friend, beware of ambushes." The dwarf hesitated.

Suddenly a rain of arrows fell upon the goblins. Several dropped dead. The remainder broke into full flight but found that their retreat was cut off by a score of armored humans in phalanx. The only remaining avenue of escape was inland and that meant climbing rocky slopes. Spears jabbed up at them and arrows hissed through the air. None of the fleeing goblins escaped. The new arrivals returned to their formation and marched toward the shipwreck survivors.

"Well," said Volo, "that was, ah, invigorating, in a fear-of-impending-doom sort of way. It will make an exciting chapter of my next book, I am sure, but my readers will no doubt find it much more pleasant to read than it was to go through it. It appears that we have at last come to the notice of more kindly-inclined locals. It would have been better if they had arrived somewhat earlier but at least we are definitely safe now."

"Halt! You are all under arrest!" The leader of the patrol, a woman by her voice, pointed with her spear and her followers fanned out and surrounded the bedraggled group.

"…Or not," said Volo. "On what charge?"

"Illegal entry into Samarach," came the reply. "You landed here without permission. You could be yuan-ti spies."

"What? Our ship was wrecked," Kelleth protested.

"We are here by invitation of Sa'Sani," Volo said, "an important merchant of your capital city."

"I am a citizen of Samarach, and an employee of Sa'Sani," Luaire added. "To arrest us is ridiculous."

"It is the law," said the woman. "You will be escorted to Samargol for processing. If Sa'Sani really knows of you she can find you in prison. Hand over your weapons, gather up your belongings, and march."

"At least let me heal our wounds first," Chantry said. She stared at the patrol leader. A chain-mail veil hung down from the woman's helmet, hiding all of her face bar her eyes, and making her expression unreadable. 'I must get one of those,' Chantry thought.

"Very well," the woman agreed, "but if you cast any offensive spell you will all be slain on the spot."

"I shall protest about this in the strongest possible terms," said Volo, as Chantry healed her bleeding arm and then went to Kelleth. "I am not without influence."

"Foreigners have no influence in Samarach," came the reply. "Your weapons. Now!"

"I'm not giving up my sword," said the dwarf. "I'm here legitimately. Your miners want my expertise." His words were ignored. Three soldiers seized him, wrenched the sword from his grasp, and shoved him away.

"The Batiri took our Cap'n," the sailor girl protested. "You have to let us look for her!"

"Do not presume to give me orders, foreigner. The authorities will determine what is to be done." The patrol leader turned to her men. "Search the bodies of the dead. Check for contraband. Slay any Batiri fallen who yet live."

"But they could tell us where they took Cap'n Lastri!" The female sailor raised her belaying pin, probably as a gesture to emphasize her point rather than as a threat, but the Samarachan woman responded violently. She reversed her spear and struck with the butt. The sailor collapsed with blood spurting from a smashed nose.

"Silence!" the patrol leader snapped. "Question my orders again and you will all be dragged to Samargol in chains." She turned on her heel, strode to where a wounded Batiri was stirring on the sand, and thrust down with the point of her spear. The Batiri's movements ceased.

Chantry had just healed the gash on Kelleth's cheek. She hesitated, sucked in her lower lip, and debated with herself. She came to a decision, went to the injured sailor, and cast another healing spell.

The girl picked herself up. "Thank you," she said. "I am sorry for what I said earlier."

"So you should be," Chantry said coldly. She turned away with no further words.

"I wish I could find my hat," Aysgarth said, "and my staff."

"Why, because you won't be recognized as a wizard without them?" Kelleth asked.

"No," said Aysgarth, "because they're enchanted. Not to a great degree, true, but they bear useful cantrips."

"They might wash up eventually," Kelleth said, "but I doubt if these officious idiots would let us search for them."

"True," said Aysgarth, "and they would probably confiscate them anyway."

The halfling sailor with a bow, who had been sniping from nearby rocks, clambered down to join the others. He was immediately surrounded by spearmen and the bow wrenched roughly from his hands.

"Are there any more of you?" the patrol leader demanded.

"These are all we know of," Volo said, "apart from the two who were taken away by the Batiri. We fear that the rest of us perished in the waves but perhaps, if Umberlee was kind, there may be more survivors elsewhere along the beach."

"If so they will have to take their chances with the jungle," the woman replied. "We have wasted enough time here. Form up, men! We return to Samargol."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"_I want to love you but I'd better not touch_

_(Not touch)_

_I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop_

_I want to kiss you but I want it too much_

_(Too much)_

_I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison_

_You're poison running through my veins…_"

They had been walking for over three hours. Chantry's underclothes had dried out, under the horrible Batiri armor, but the wet fabric had chafed her skin badly and it felt as if her shift was falling apart. Her feet were blistered and bruised. There was no point in using a spell to heal herself when she'd only pick up more blisters; better to wait until they reached their destination.

The Samarachan guards were dour and uncommunicative. They forced their prisoners to walk in single file, each one beside one of the guards, which made conversation within the group rather difficult. Chantry spent the first half hour of the journey thinking up entertaining ways in which the patrol leader could meet a horrible death but eventually she ran out of ideas. After that she turned to singing to pass the time.

This was the fourth time she had sung the 'New Hymn to Talona'. No-one had joined in. The sailors had, however, joined in when she had sung Umberlee's anthem 'Bitch'. She would have gone through Eldath's hymn 'Peace In Our Time', for Kelleth, but she'd only heard it once and couldn't remember enough of the words. The same applied to Mystra's 'It's A Kind Of Magic'. She had been sorely tempted to sing 'I Want To Break Free' but had resisted the temptation; although she had no spell-singing abilities whatsoever she had a feeling that the patrol leader would take no chances and would respond to the first verse by smashing her in the face with a spear butt. She had stuck to the hymns and a few other favorites such as 'Live It Up'.

"_Your mouth, so hot_

_Your web, I'm caught_

_Your skin, so wet_

_Black lace, on sweat…_"

Her black lace undergarments, a requirement for priestesses of Talona since the Reformation of 1370, would be stained by the salt water. Her spare clothes were lost in the wrecked ship. She wondered if she'd be able to find replacements in Samargol; not if they were thrown into prison, that was for sure.

"Silence, foreign scum!" the Samarachan patrol leader commanded. "We are about to enter the city. Your judgment is at hand."

Chantry scowled. Breaking off in the middle of the hymn was disrespectful to her goddess. On the other hand she didn't want to be beaten with a spear butt and so she obeyed the command. She looked up and saw city walls ahead, illuminated by the faint light of the approaching dawn, and a set of tall iron gates.

"Behold Samargol, Pearl of the South," the patrol leader announced. "It is a rare privilege for outsiders to even glimpse the city. Consider yourselves lucky even to have the chance to be cast into our dungeons."

Chantry rolled her eyes but restrained herself from making any retort. She amused herself, as they were led through the gate and into the city, by thinking of suitable diseases that the Samarachan woman should suffer; leprosy, syphilis – no, hemorrhoids would be the most entertaining affliction.

A captain of the guard, resplendent in gilded armor, met the patrol inside the city gates. "At ease, Elite Leader," he addressed the patrol commander. "Deliver your report. What is this rabble behind you?"

"We have investigated the shore at Omgar's Teeth, Captain Dajos," the woman told him. She removed her helmet, revealing a moderately pretty face and short dark hair, and stood to attention. "We found a shipwreck and hostile natives. We pacified the natives and took these foreign intruders prisoner."

"Hey, we did all the pacifying before you turned up," Kelleth protested.

"Silence, prisoner," the patrol leader growled. "Would you rather we had left you with those Batiri? I'm sure your head would have looked very pretty on a stick."

"That is…" Captain Dajos began, and then broke off and stared at the prisoners. "Wait. You, there. I recognize you. Speak up!"

"Ah, yes, good man," said Volo. "I see my fame has spread even here. I am, as you no doubt know, Volothamp Geddarm, the author. I have traveled here at the invitation of Sa'Sani, a merchant of importance, and these are my, ah, bodyguards plus the crew of the ship."

"He wasn't pointing at you, Volo," Kelleth told him.

"That is correct. I did not mean you, foreigner," Captain Dajos agreed, "although in fact I do recognize you from an illustration in one of your books. You looked rather… younger."

"Time passes," said Volo, with a shrug, "and I have been writing for some years."

"Master Luaire," said the captain. "You are he, am I correct? You work for Mistress Sa'Sani, do you not?"

"I do," Luaire confirmed. "Please send for-"

"There is no need to send for me," a new voice broke in. A woman's voice, sultry and exotic, with a distinct hint of steel behind her words. "I am here. Yes, Luaire is my employee, and this man Volo is my responsibility as well."

Chantry stared at the newcomer. Olive skinned, with raven-black hair, a long neck, high cheekbones, and full lips. She wore an elegant gown of blue and green but very little in the way of jewelry. Chantry guessed her to be in her early thirties. Very attractive to men, no doubt; a mutter of approval from Kelleth confirmed this to Chantry and sent her off into a momentary fantasy in which the woman contracted smallpox.

Captain Dajos turned around to face the woman and bowed his head. "Lady Sa'Sani," he said, "certainly we apologize for arresting these men wrongfully – but how did you know so soon?"

"Do you insult me by implying that my intelligence and scrying skills are less than the pitiful powers of those for whom you work? Your superiors will be interested," she said.

"I was merely taken by surprise, Lady Sa'Sani," said the captain. "I meant no disrespect. Forgive me. Guards! Release Master Luaire and Master Volothamp to the care of Lady Sa'Sani at once."

"I think I like this woman," Aysgarth muttered.

"Me too," said Kelleth. Chantry remained silent.

"Sir, what about the rest of this rabble?" asked the patrol leader. "To the dungeons?"

"They are not vouched for," said Captain Dajos. "They could well be spies, or filthy yuan-ti. Better kill them just to be sure."

"My lady, you cannot permit such a thing," Volo appealed. "I vouch for them. I recruited them to be my bodyguards."

"And they seem to have served you well," Sa'Sani agreed. "I think I can make use of their talents. Captain Dajos, release _all_ of the prisoners – unless you would appreciate explaining to the High Phantasmage how you interfered with an approved merchant of the state doing business?"

"No, my lady," the captain said. "We release them to your care – but you will answer to the authorities if they cause trouble here." He turned to the patrol leader. "Release them. Return their weapons."

"My father's sword," the dwarf said, as his sword was handed back. "It is well for you that you have restored this to me." The guard merely glowered at him.

"Remind me to buy you a drink some time," Chantry told the patrol leader, her smile as innocuous and innocent as she could manage while her thoughts dwelt on the Samarachan woman's painful death.

"I do not drink with foreign scum," the soldier said, with a contemptuous snort.

'No, but one day you'll leave your drink unwatched, bitch,' Chantry silently promised herself, 'and I'll be waiting.'

"Thank you, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said, missing the glottal stop in the middle of her name.

"Do not thank me yet," Sa'Sani told him. "I will require repayment in the form of service. Thank me if you find that service agreeable. Now, I have business to attend to with my two associates. You look badly in need of some rest and, I would suggest, a bath. Take this," she tossed a small pouch of coins to Kelleth, "and retire to Leira's Trick – that is a nearby tavern that caters for foreigners. Come and see me after you have refreshed yourself properly."

"Where?" Kelleth asked. "We are strangers here, remember."

"This plaza, the Openpalm Bazaar, is the only area of the city open to foreigners," Sa'Sani informed him. "My Mercantile House is on the far side of the plaza from the tavern. You will find it without difficulty."

"There is no point in bathing without clean clothes to put on," Chantry said. "Everything I owned, save what I wear, went down with the ship."

"A good point," said Sa'Sani. She looked directly into Chantry's eyes without any sign of flinching at the pock-marks and scars on her face. "Here. Some additional funds," Sa'Sani said, extracting another small pouch from her belt and tossing it to Chantry. "Do not yet concern yourselves with weaponry and equipment. I purchase my clothes from Pareechehr, who has a stall beside the Shrine of Waukeen, and I recommend that you try her first."

"Thank you, my lady," Chantry said. She smiled at the merchant lady and was answered with a smile that, although brief, seemed to be genuine.

After that exchange of smiles Sa'Sani turned away. "Luaire, Volo, you shall accompany me to the Mercantile House," she said. "We must talk of the wreck of your ship and other matters of great import."

"My lady, I too am in severe need of rest and a bath," Volo said, "or my company will be less than pleasant."

"Worry not, Volo, they await you in my quarters," Sa'Sani told him. "You shall be my guest. Now, come with me."

Kelleth watched as Sa'Sani departed. "That's quite a woman," he commented.

Chantry's smile vanished. "Too old for you, surely," she said.

"Oh, I wouldn't say so," Kelleth said, his eyes still trained on Sa'Sani's swaying hips, and oblivious to Chantry's sour expression. "Come on, my friends, let us go shopping. And then a meal, a bath, and some badly needed sleep."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

There was a spring in Chantry's step as she crossed the plaza. She was clean, well fed, and rested. The late afternoon sun was warm but not too hot. Colorful and exotic birds flitted above the plaza and drank from the fountains. She had found a merchant who dealt in goods imported from Amn and she now wore a new set of Anya's Secret bra and panties, black lace as required by her goddess, and a light gown of gray-green silk that made a wonderful replacement for the shift that had disintegrated when she removed the goblin armor. Instead of her old boots, ruined by the salt water, her feet were now shod with enchanted Boots of Reflexes. She had hoped to find that women in Samarach wore veils, as was the custom in parts of Calimshan, but that had proved not to be the case; however at least when the locals recoiled from her in horror, making signs against the Evil Eye, it wasn't because of her scarred face.

Kelleth, Aysgarth, and the sailor lass – Saldee, her name was – were getting the same hostile reaction. Foreigners were Evil in the eyes of the populace of Samarach, apparently, regardless of their appearance or their deity. The two halflings and the dwarf were less feared, it seemed, but were treated with an amused contempt that was irritating Thorpe intensely.

There was a courtyard, enclosed by a six-foot wrought iron fence, in front of the Mercantile House. Its gates stood open and Sa'Sani, together with Volo, Luaire, and two men unknown to Chantry, sat around a low table within. "Greetings, travelers," Sa'Sani greeted them as they entered. "I trust you are refreshed? To business, then."

There were no free seats. Kelleth nodded to Volo and stood in front of Sa'Sani, his comrades at his sides, and the two sailors and the dwarf stood slightly apart from the group. "Of course, Lady," Kelleth said.

"You may have noticed," Sa'Sani went on, "that the guards at the city gates will not let you leave. Not that they wouldn't love to see you devoured by the denizens of the wilderness, that is, but they'd much rather slay you themselves; given enough time, and without my protection, they _will_ slay you."

"Some of them will die in the attempt," Chantry said, "but it is true that we cannot fight a whole city."

Kelleth flicked a glance at her, frowning, and then turned back to Sa'Sani. "So, what must we do to gain your protection?" he asked.

"You approach this wisely," Sa'Sani said. "It may be that our meeting will have mutual benefit beyond what I had first surmised. The Council of Samarach will not allow me to protect you unless you are in my employ. If the guards do not see you perform this part they will slay you at the slightest hint of suspicion. Working for Volo does not count, I'm afraid, and your intended role as bodyguards is superfluous now as he will be staying with me. Fortunately I have tasks to be done that seem to be well suited to someone of your ingenuity and resilience. You performed admirably in the aftermath of the shipwreck, Volo tells me, despite your almost total lack of weaponry."

"I would be happy to assist you, if the job is within our sphere of expertise," Kelleth said, "but the shipwreck has left us severely depleted as far as arms and armor are concerned. If you could provide some gold to help us re-equip it would be a great help."

"A practical suggestion," Sa'Sani agreed, "and it shall be done."

"We are but poor sailors, ma'am," Saldee put in, gesturing at herself and at Dalin the halfling, "not warriors like the others. If you have a ship to crew we could assist but otherwise we have nothing to offer."

"And I just want to get to the mine," Stoneborn the dwarf added. "I already have employment in Samarach. Unfortunately my contract is at the bottom of the sea and those buggers," he jerked a thumb in the direction of the city gates, "won't listen to me."

"I shall see that your employers are notified," Sa'Sani promised him. "Delivering you to them will mean that they owe me a reciprocal favor. As for you, sailors, ships do not sail often from here to the Sword Coast but I can find you a berth on a ship to Calimport. From there you should be able to make your way home before too long."

"Thank you most kindly, ma'am," the sailor girl said. The halfling added his thanks.

"My business with – Kelleth, is it? – and his companions is for the ears of my trusted employees only, however," Sa'Sani went on, "and that means that you must leave us before I can continue. Return to the tavern, if you would; I shall send word to you later, when I have found a ship for you, sailors, and had a response from your employers, dwarf."

Once the dwarf and the two sailors had departed Sa'Sani returned her attention to Kelleth. "There are a pair of tasks I would like your assistance with," she said, "both of which will require you to return to the scene of the shipwreck. Undoubtedly you are not fond of the location, or of the inhabitants of the locality, but it cannot be helped."

Kelleth shrugged. "I don't mind killing more Batiri," he said. "What do you wish us to do?"

"Let me guess," said Aysgarth. He stroked his neatly-trimmed beard. "You want us to find out what happened to your cargo, assuming that it isn't simply at the bottom of the sea."

"A reasonable deduction," said Sa'Sani. "You are perceptive. Indeed, I would like to recover whatever is salvageable. That ship was carrying some goods valuable to my operations here and obtaining replacements will take too long. Whatever you can retrieve will be gratefully received."

"What were you importing from the Sword Coast?" Chantry wondered. "Weapons?"

Sa'Sani laughed. "Hardly," she said. "Mining equipment. There is little quality ore in Samarach but our volcanic rocks are a probable source of diamonds. I belong to a syndicate involved in prospecting for such gems; indeed, that dwarf was hired by another syndicate member. Temporary immersion in water will not harm dwarf-made mining tools. If they are not sunk too deep, and can be recovered, my investment will not be lost."

"We have no training in salvage," Kelleth pointed out. "The Batiri will probably have stolen whatever has washed ashore."

"Simply locate the goods and I will have experts do the recovery, or laborers do the haulage if they are on dry land," Sa'Sani said. "If the Batiri have stolen them – well, you have already said that you do not mind slaying more of those cannibal savages."

"Cannibals?" Thorpe gulped. "They dragged off Captain Lastri!"

The ship's captain had been a female halfling. Chantry remembered that Thorpe had spent a large part of the voyage, after he got over being sea-sick, in trying unsuccessfully to persuade the captain to share a bunk with him. "If we act swiftly we might get her back," she said.

"If she's still alive we'll find her," Kelleth assured his halfling friend. "We are willing to do this job for you, Lady Sa Sani."

"Very well. Here. Take this ring as a token to prove that you are in my employ." She handed a signet ring to Kelleth. "It also bears a protective enchantment equivalent to a light shield or buckler. May it serve you well. This gold," she produced from under the table a pouch much bigger and heavier than the one she had given them at the city gates, "should allow you properly to re-equip yourselves before you venture out of the city."

"Thank you, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said. "What is the second task? Searching for more survivors?"

"That would be admirable, and I approve, but my concern is with the wreck itself," Sa'Sani said. "I am convinced that it was no mere accident but I lack proof. Take this report, investigate the area, and document what you find. The authorities will regard it as a harmless insurance investigation but it will tell me far more."

"Oh, it was definitely sabotage," Chantry declared.

"You sound certain," Sa'Sani said. "What makes you believe this?"

"It wasn't much of a storm," Chantry said, "and we went through a dozen worse on the voyage without Captain Lastri having any trouble. This time the steering, the helm – is that the right term? – didn't respond. There was something wrong with the sails, too, but I don't know enough about ships to know what it was. Also, that patrol turned up just too damn quick. Somebody knew something in advance."

"Perhaps evidence, indeed," Sa'Sani said, "but perhaps coincidence."

"Maybe," said Chantry, "but the clincher is that I didn't fall overboard."

Kelleth frowned. "But you did. You nearly died."

"I didn't say I didn't _go_ overboard," Chantry told him, "just that I didn't fall. I was pushed."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Disclaimer: 'Storm of Zehir' is the property of Atari, Obsidian Entertainment, Wizards of the Coast Inc., and Hasbro, Inc. The song sung by Chantry, and referred to by her as 'the New Hymn to Talona', is 'Poison' by Alice Cooper; lyrics quoted without permission.


	3. The Buffalo Skinners

**Chapter Three: The Buffalo Skinners**

_Out beyond the river where you and I would ride_

_We would skin the buffalo_

_The last ones left alive_

_But once again it passed me by_

_I know it always will_

_That's why I spend my Sunday standing still_

(Big Country, _Buffalo Skinners_)

Chantry scowled and kicked the severed head of a Batiri warrior. "The saboteur was Luaire," she said, as the head rolled away across the sand. "I know it. I'll rip his fucking lungs out."

"Now that doesn't sound like the Chantry I've come to know and love," Kelleth said, an amused lilt in his tone and a smile on his lips. The smile faded as Chantry fixed him with a cold glare.

'_If only_,' Chantry thought. '_If you meant it the way I would mean it. If you could see past this ruined face…_' She scowled all the harder to cover up her feelings. "He tried to kill me," she said. "Don't expect me to let it pass. I might not be a Sharran, or a follower of Hoar, but I don't worship Ilmater either. If somebody hurts me I hurt them right back. Harder."

Thorpe was examining a stone door set into a low cliff face at the edge of the beach. He broke off and turned to face the others. "That seems fair enough to me. You hold him down and I'll do the cutting."

"Hold it, both of you," Kelleth said. "We've confirmed our suspicions that the ship was sabotaged, yes, but we don't have any proof of who did it." He crouched down to search a Batiri corpse.

"It wasn't us," Chantry said, "it would make no sense for it to be Volo, and why would it be one of the sailors? Several of them perished, the others would have been slain by the Batiri if it had not been for us; I can't see it. That leaves Luaire."

"Unless one of the sailors had been replaced by a doppelganger," Aysgarth put in, "or was under a geas." He joined Thorpe at the door and ran his hands over the rock slab. "The lock is enchanted," he said. "I don't think there is any way to open it from the outside without the missing piece of stone."

"That would explain why I was getting nowhere," Thorpe said. "Is the keystone on any of those bodies?"

Kelleth rose from his crouch. "If so, I haven't found it," he said. "This one had a small pouch of gemstones. I don't think they're particularly valuable, although I'm no expert, but at least we're in profit."

"That Zalantar spear is a nice weapon," Aysgarth remarked. "It's a pity none of us use a spear but at least it will sell for a good price."

Chantry tapped her foot, on a dead body, and rolled her eyes. "About Luaire. Can I kill him when we get back to town?"

"We don't have any proof," Kelleth said. "I agree he's the most likely suspect by a long way but that isn't enough. I don't think the authorities here will listen to us. They don't seem very fond of foreigners."

Chantry snorted. "That's like saying Shar isn't very fond of Selûne. Sa'Sani should listen, though. She seems to have her head screwed on the right way."

"A smart head on a very smart body," Kelleth said, smiling. Chantry's glare intensified but he didn't notice. "She does indeed, but we don't know how much she trusts Luaire, and she may well regard him highly. He was her envoy to the Sword Coast, after all, which implies that she believes him to be worthy of trust. She might well take his word over ours despite the circumstantial evidence. If she gets annoyed and removes her protection…"

"…Then that bitch Elite Leader will drag us off to the dungeons just for being foreigners," Chantry finished for him. "By all the gods, this country is a horrible place. Okay, you're right. We need more evidence."

"We need to find Captain Lastri and the mate," Kelleth said, "before we can do anything about Luaire."

Chantry heaved a sigh. "I suppose so. One or both of them could be the saboteur, or saboteurs, although I don't believe that for a moment."

"Neither do I," Kelleth agreed, "but they'd be easy for Luaire to blame. People who aren't around to defend themselves make easy scapegoats."

Aysgarth stroked a finger along his moustache. "If Luaire rigged the sinking then he deliberately stranded himself on this wild piece of coast. He must have expected to get past the Batiri and back to civilization."

"Well, yes," Chantry said. "What's your point?"

"He saw an opportunity to kill you and he took it," Aysgarth explained, "which means he wasn't worried about reducing our fighting strength against the Batiri. I didn't see him cast anything much in the fight. Mage Armor, Burning Hands, and Ray of Frost, that was all I noticed. If he didn't have anything more than that he'd never have survived without us. I bet he was holding back. Probably keeping most of his best spells in reserve. It wouldn't surprise me if he was far more powerful than I am."

Kelleth nodded. "That's logical," he said.

"So we all hit him at once," Chantry proposed. "I put a wrist-lock on him, Thorpe backstabs him, you see if you can saw his head off, and Aysgarth tries to dispel whatever protections he's got prepared with Contingency and that kick in when we go for him. We don't make any stupid chivalrous challenge that gives him a chance to get ready. We can take him."

"Probably," Kelleth agreed, "unless he's in the same league as, say, Sand of Crossroads Keep."

"Or unless he has Tenser's Transformation, or something similar, as a Contingency spell as well as the standard Stoneskin," Aysgarth put in, "and he just powers out of the wristlock."

Kelleth nodded. "A good point, my friend, although somehow I don't see that as being in accordance with Luaire's personality. However, Chantry, consider what will happen to us next if we kill him."

Chantry rolled her eyes. "We'd already agreed we're not going to jump him when we get back," she said. "I'm talking about when we have enough evidence."

"And when we have gained enough influence with Sa'Sani so that she'll listen to us," Aysgarth said, "and so that she won't go straight to Luaire and say 'The foreigners claim you are the saboteur. What do you have to say for yourself?' thereby giving him the chance to run – or to eliminate his accusers."

"Right," Chantry said. "Okay, we work for Sa'Sani like faithful little dogs until she trusts us." She sighed. "I suppose it won't be that much of a hardship. She's about the only person I've met, since we arrived in this shitty little country, who I don't want to disembowel and feed to the dogs."

"That's harsh," Kelleth said. "The innkeeper was perfectly pleasant, and that clothes merchant, and the other one, Mendar, who sold us our gear."

"Well, okay, but the exchange rate they gave us for our Neverwinter Lords absolutely stank," Chantry said.

"Neverwinter is bankrupt," Aysgarth pointed out. "It's only to be expected that the currency isn't trusted. Anyway, we only had the few coins in our pouches. We didn't exactly lose out to any great extent." He frowned. "In fact you didn't have any Neverwinter coins at all. The rest of us may have lost out on the exchange rate but it didn't affect you."

"It's the principle of the thing," Chantry said.

"Mendar gave us a good price," Thorpe said. "He seems a decent bloke to me."

"Okay, okay, I was exaggerating," Chantry said, "but you have to agree that everybody in a uniform in this place is a total bastard."

"Thus we have found so far," Kelleth conceded, "but it is premature to condemn an entire country's authorities on the basis of such slight acquaintance."

"Oh, shut up," Chantry said. "So, what do we do now? Go back to Sa'Sani with the evidence?"

"Not yet," Kelleth replied. "Captain Lastri might still be alive but, even if she is, she won't be for much longer. We need to find her before the Batiri eat her."

"You're the ranger," Chantry said. "Can you track where they went?"

"The plants here are unfamiliar, and some of the animals are strange to me," Kelleth mused, "and I do not know the alarm calls of the local birds. We could do with the services of a local guide."

"Does that mean that you can't track them?" Chantry raised her eyebrows. "I thought you could track birds in the air, fish in the stream, sunshine on a rainy day, all that kind of thing?"

"Of course I can track a bunch of Batiri dragging a captive," Kelleth said. "Not as easily as back home, perhaps, but it won't be all that hard. I'll just have to be extra alert for ambushes until I learn more about the local conditions." He frowned and tilted his head to one side. "Track sunshine on a rainy day?"

Chantry tossed her head. "You've never heard the Rupert Giles Experience, so you wouldn't understand. Don't worry about it. Let's go hunt Batiri."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Kelleth pulled his sword from the body of the Batiri chieftain, took a step back, and wiped the back of his left hand across a forehead dripping with moisture. "That was close," he panted. He caught a glimpse of his hand and his eyes widened as he realized that it was smeared with red. "Closer than I thought, even," he added, as he touched his fingers to his brow and found a shallow cut running all the way across above his eyes. "I never even felt that one."

Chantry stepped over a Batiri corpse and knelt down beside Thorpe. "You'll have to wait," she told Kelleth. "His need is greater than yours." The halfling had taken a spear-thrust in the belly and was curled up, groaning, on the floor of the cave.

"Of course," Kelleth said. He waited as Chantry cast healing spells upon Thorpe and restored him to health.

"The wound was poisoned," Chantry remarked. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a half-smile. "Good thing you have me, isn't it?"

Kelleth opened his mouth to reply but Aysgarth beat him to it. "I thought Kelleth was crazy to take you into the group," the wizard said, "but I was wrong. You're a great asset and without you we'd probably all be dead."

"Oh, shut up, you're embarrassing me," Chantry said. She tried to scowl at Aysgarth but it came out as a smile. "If I hadn't joined you you'd have just recruited another cleric."

"Another poisons expert of your skill level? I doubt it," Kelleth put in, "and the tropical disease angle hadn't even occurred to us. You pull your weight in the fights, too."

"I've had a lot of practice," Chantry said. She helped Thorpe to his feet. "Okay, let's take a look at your wound, and then we can get to the good part. Loot!"

"Help!" a female voice called from a wooden structure in a corner of the cage. "Get me out of here!"

"Oh, yeah, and we can free the prisoner," Chantry said. She rubbed her hands together. "Didn't Sa'Sani say something about a reward?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Sa'Sani received them in the courtyard of her headquarters once more. She was accompanied by Volo, and by a small retinue of her senior employees, but Luaire was absent. She listened to Kelleth's report and her lips tightened as he went through his account of their findings.

"The evidence seems to point to Luaire," she said, when he finished. She sighed. "I feared as much. When I thought about it he was the only one, apart from yourselves and the sailors, who had the opportunity. Many of the sailors perished, and you had no conceivable motive, leaving only Luaire. It is hard to believe, for he has been long in my service and has always seemed loyal, but I see no other explanation."

"Where is he?" Chantry asked. "It was him who pushed me into the sea and nearly drowned me. That gives me a personal interest in seeing Luaire get what's coming to him."

"I sent him away on a mission to a logging camp in the jungle," Sa'Sani replied. "I did not want him to be here when you returned with the results of your investigation. When he returns I shall have him detained and, if we can build a case sufficient to present to the authorities, arrested. If nothing can be proved then, unless he can convince me of his innocence, I shall dismiss him."

Chantry pouted. She suspected that prosecuting a Samarach citizen on the basis of the testimony of foreigners was a losing proposition. On the other hand if someone was dismissed in disgrace from the service of a respected merchant, and then turned up dead by poisoning, the authorities would probably write it off as a suicide without bothering to carry out much of an investigation… Her pout was replaced by a feral smile. "I can live with that," she said.

"Sa'Sani, I must protest," the merchant's second-in-command spoke up. "You would take the word of these… foreigners against one of your own people?"

Sa'Sani raised her eyebrows and turned to face the speaker. "I applied simple logic, Nas'Sirin," she told the man. "Motive, means, and opportunity. Luaire is a competent wizard, despite his usual hesitant manner, and he therefore had the means to carry out the sabotage. He had the opportunity. I do not know his motive but it is easy to come up with possibilities. Conversely these foreigners from Neverwinter can have had no such motive to carry out an act that resulted in them losing most of their possessions and being stranded in a foreign land."

"I suppose I cannot fault your logic," Nas'sirin said, "but I insist on him being given a chance to speak for himself."

"He shall have that chance, when he returns," Sa'Sani conceded, "but on my terms. That is a matter for the future, however. Right now I have a task for you. Arrange a party of bearers to gather my cargo from the wrecked ship." She turned back to Kelleth. "I would like you to escort them there."

"Certainly, my Lady," Kelleth agreed. "There's a hidden door in the cliffs there that we want to take a look at. We couldn't open it before but I think we have the key now."

"Then you can assist me and yourselves at the same time," said Sa'Sani. "You have done well. Not only have you carried out the investigation I requested, and located my cargo, but you have rescued the ship's captain too. You deserve a reward." She produced a bag of coin larger and heavier than the one that she had given them the previous day. "Four thousand," she said. "I trust that is satisfactory?"

"Most generous, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said.

"You will no doubt want to spend it," Sa'Sani went on. "Sharper and shinier swords, more resilient armor, spell scrolls for your wizard – adventurers are always the same."

"Actually I was planning on getting a better bow," Kelleth remarked.

Sa'Sani smiled. "Of course."

"Lady Sa'Sani," Chantry said, her tone respectful, "we had thought to recruit a local guide whose knowledge of conditions here would augment Kelleth's skills. Is there anyone you could recommend?"

Sa'Sani shook her head. "I have little contact with adventuring types as a rule." Her brows creased. "There is a stallholder in the market who deals primarily with adventurers," she said. "Vadin'ya." The crease in her forehead grew deeper. "I would not normally advise you to associate with her," she went on. "The woman is part fiend, she has the morals of a harlot, and her businesses practices are sharp to say the least, and yet," Sa'Sani paused and took her bottom lip between her teeth briefly, "at least as far as the matter of hiring a local guide goes, I believe that you could trust her advice." She paused again. "And she pays her accounts on the dot."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Vadin'ya was easy to pick out from among the merchants in the Openpalm Bazaar. She was very tall for a woman, slim, and her complexion was as fair as that of a Neverwinter native rather than the olive brown of most inhabitants of Samarach. Her eyes were a blue that matched the long robe that she wore. A pair of short curved horns protruded through her auburn hair and gave away her fiendish ancestry. The barbed tail that extended through her robe gave unneeded confirmation.

"Well, well, you do not look as if you belong here, my hawk," she addressed Kelleth. "A recent import to the friendly shores of Samarach, are you not? What do you think, Artiuk, my pearl?"

A huge half-orc warrior in lamellar armor, presumably Artiuk, loomed beside the stall. He merely grunted in response to her question.

Vadin'ya's eyes twinkled. "You must excuse him," she said. "He always gets a little jealous when I pay attention to other men. So, bird from the North, what makes you fly over to my store? Something catch your eye, perhaps?"

Chantry felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy at the flirtatious tone the tiefling was using towards Kelleth. She fought the emotion back. It was probable that Vadin'ya used the same wiles on all customers, or at least all male ones, and intended only to try to soften Kelleth up for a deal in her favor.

"I am Vadin'ya," the merchant went on, "a trader well known in this place. Connections I have, and deep pockets, and a stock of both the usual and the unusual. The magnificent jade tiger at my side is Artiuk, my bodyguard. Come, tell me what you require."

"I'm in the market for weapons and armor," Kelleth said, "and I have items to trade. My colleague Thorpe, however, tells me that the prices you give for used gear are only two-thirds what we can get from Mencar."

"Ah, yes, the little sparrow," Vadin'ya said, directing her gaze at the halfling. "He came, he looked, and he went away. It is true that for the common run of things I pay less than does Mencar, and charge more when I sell them. Yet, eagle of the North, if your friend had brought me items of greater worth he might have returned with a different story to tell. Show me what you have to offer."

"Perhaps later," Chantry cut in. If Vadin'ya's feminine wiles had the desired effect on Kelleth he might trade away their precious loot for a song. "We have been sent to you for advice."

"Advice, my little…" Vadin'ya began. Her eyes widened as her gaze fell on Chantry's face. Chantry braced herself for the usual expression of disgust but, instead, Vadin'ya smiled and dipped in a small curtsey. "Reverend Venom," she said, "it is rare for a priestess of our faith to appear in Samarach. I bid you greetings."

It was the turn of Chantry's eyes to widen. "You are a follower of Talona?"

"I give honor to Waukeen in my capacity of trader," Vadin'ya said, "but I am also an alchemist and, in that role, Talona receives my worship. I am at your service."

"And I am at yours," replied Chantry. She smiled broadly. There was only one field of alchemy in which worship of Talona was appropriate. Vadin'ya could turn out to be a very useful contact indeed. "It is good to meet a member of the church in this land, where most people seem to venerate Leira."

"Something I find odd, seeing as how Leira is dead," Kelleth put in.

Vadin'ya shrugged. "They claim her death is merely one of her illusions, my falcon," she said, "and how are we to know who is right?"

"Oh, she's definitely dead," Chantry said, "but probably not for much longer. Shar wants to bring her back and the Mistress of Loss usually gets what she wants." She saw that the conversation was in danger of veering off into a discussion of religion and brought it back on track. "We have come to you for advice, Vadin'ya. Kelleth is a ranger of great skill but is unfamiliar with the beasts and plants of this land. We wish to hire a local guide and were told that you would be able to recommend someone."

"Of course, Reverend," Vadin'ya said. "Most who style themselves adventurers are drunkards and fools, as you will know, but there are two here today who are, by all accounts, reliable." She pointed across the bazaar towards the fountains. "You will find Inshula shar Mashewe over there, in the company of her sister Kwesi the bounty-payer. Inshula is a skilled hunter and ranger."

"And the other?"

"Umoja, the druid," Vadin'ya said. "He was purchasing items from me only a minute before you arrived and is no doubt still close by. You will recognize him by his black skin and his dinosaur companion."

"Dinosaur companion?" Thorpe commented. "Be good to have one of those on our side instead of trying to bite our heads off."

"Thank you, Vadin'ya," Chantry said. "We'll be back later to spend some coin."

"I shall look forward to it, Reverend Venom," Vadin'ya said, "and for you I shall have very special prices."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Oh, isn't he beautiful!" Chantry gazed admiringly at the lithe predator. The dinosaur was about fifteen feet from nose to tail tip, stood roughly three and a half feet high at the hips, but was lightly built. Chantry guessed that it would weigh around the same as a large man. Its upper surfaces were feathered but its underside was bare and scaly. "If I stroked him would he bite off my hand?"

The druid had been frowning but his expression changed as he studied Chantry's expression. A smile spread over his ebony-skinned face. "If you touched him without warning, and startled him, then perhaps he would," he said. He spoke a few words in an unfamiliar language and the dinosaur chirped in response. "You are safe now, lady," the druid said. "He will allow you to stroke his nose."

"I'd ask what sort he is," Chantry said, as she ran her hand over the dry scaly skin of the beast's snout, stopping before she reached the feathers that covered the crown of its head, "except that, as it wouldn't mean anything to me, there isn't really much point. But he is lovely."

"Your people call his kind Deinonychus," the druid told her. "A Chessentan word, I think, meaning 'terrible claw'. In my tongue they are called T'saagan. His name is Yushai." He turned away, glanced at Kelleth, and then returned his attention to Chantry. "And I am Umoja, as I think you know. I heard Vadin'ya speak of me to you. You wish me to be your guide."

"Perhaps," Kelleth said. "I would like to know more about you before I make a definite offer."

"You are the leader of the group, I take it?" Umoja looked Kelleth up and down. "Yes, I see that you are. A man of the wilderness, as am I, but from the cold and bleak Northlands."

"Neverwinter isn't all that cold," Kelleth said. "We have warm ocean currents and hot springs. Apart from that you're correct." He returned Umoja's assessing gaze. The Chultan druid was tall, nearly as tall as Kelleth, but less broad of shoulder. His skin was darker than that of any human Kelleth had seen before, a deep rich brown, and his hair was jet black and worn in matted ringlets that seemed almost like wool. He was clad in armor of animal hide, of green mottled with brown, scales and horny nodules showing that it came from a dinosaur. Umoja's eyes were pale brown, almost yellow, but they returned Kelleth's gaze steadily.

"I am a follower of Ubtao, the Father of Dinosaurs," Umoja said. "The jungle is my domain."

"I thought the worshippers of Ubtao lived in and around the city of Mezro, over to the north-west from here," Chantry said. "So I have read, anyway."

"True," said Umoja. "The great Ubtao appeared to me in a vision, and spread his claws toward the city of Samargol, and so I have made my way here. As to why, I do not yet know."

"My goddess commanded me to come here, too," Chantry told him. "I wonder if there's a connection?"

"Who is your goddess?" Umoja asked.

"Talona," Chantry replied.

The frown returned to Umoja's brow. "I thought I recognized the symbol," he said, "but then I believed I must have been mistaken. You seem too… pleasant to be a Talontar, and Yushai has taken to you. He is usually a good judge of character."

"I cure diseases, I don't spread them," Chantry told him, "and I don't poison people unless they really piss me off." She scratched Yushai's scales between his eyes, turned her head, and smiled at Umoja. Before the plague her smile had been a weapon guaranteed to weaken any male will but those days were long gone. "Come on, join up with us. I don't bite."

Umoja's lips twitched upwards. He looked at Kelleth again, swung his gaze to study Aysgarth and Thorpe, and then turned back to Chantry. "I sense that Ubtao wills it so," he said. "I will join you, and teach you the ways of the jungle, and fight at your side."

"Glad to have you with us," Kelleth said. "Chantry, next time at least let me pretend to myself that I'm in charge of hiring and firing, okay?"

"You'd already made your decision," Chantry said. "It was pretty obvious. Are we going to bother with the other one, the ranger?"

Kelleth pursed his lips. "We'll talk to her, at least. It might be useful to have another female in the party."

Chantry's eyebrows climbed. "Why?"

"Ah, well, when you, ah, have to go into the bushes," Kelleth said, "you're vulnerable by yourself. If there were two girls, and you went as a pair, it would be safer."

"I suppose you have a point," Chantry said, reluctantly. "Although… now Yushai can go with me. Problem solved. Modesty issues don't really apply with a dinosaur."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"We hunted the great boar Bal-alak, to claim the bounty on its tusks," Kwesi related. "We peppered it with crossbow bolts but to no avail. It gored my leg and left me crippled. I am mending, but slowly, and I could not make the trip back to Tashalar."

"Why don't you just get it healed?" Chantry asked. "I could do it for you, no problem."

"You?" Inshula curled her lip. "A Talontar? We would not accept aid from such a tainted source."

"Our custom is to let injuries received in such a manner heal in their own time," Kwesi said, her tone conciliatory. "I thank you for your kind offer, but it goes against our beliefs. If it was not so I could have purchased healing at the Temple of Waukeen. We are not destitute."

"She works for the corrupt authorities of this miserable city," Inshula said, "verifying that bounty claims are genuine before payments are made. And I… I wait."

"You could join us," Kelleth suggested. He ignored Chantry's low hiss of disapproval. Initial prejudice against a priestess of Talona was only to be expected and, Kelleth hoped, Inshula's attitude would soften if she joined the group and learned Chantry's value. "We might seek out that wild boar ourselves. You would be a big help."

"Work alongside a Talontar?" Inshula snorted. "I suppose it would be a marginal improvement on hanging around in this city. Very well, but only if I am well paid. Five hundred gold coins in advance."

"Five hundred? Fuck that," Chantry exclaimed.

Kelleth shot a mild glare in her direction. He couldn't really blame Chantry for her reaction, given Inshula's attitude, but it wasn't helping. "We lost much in the shipwreck, and we must use those funds we have acquired so far in replacing our equipment and gathering stocks of supplies," he said. "Five hundred is too much at this time. Perhaps a smaller sum? You would get a full share of our earnings in the future."

"The cards can decide," Inshula said. She took a pack of cards out of a pouch, shuffled it briefly, and dealt out five cards onto the low wall that surrounded the fountain pools. She studied the hand. "The cards speak of coin," she declared. "I will not reduce what I ask."

"Suit yourself," Chantry said.

"Perhaps another time," Kelleth said. "Farewell, then. We may return later, perhaps, to claim some of the bounties you are offering." The group turned and headed back in the direction of Vadin'ya's stall.

"Bitch," Chantry muttered, as soon as they were far enough away from the sisters to be sure of not being overheard.

"She was less than tactful," Kelleth conceded.

"The wrong sister got injured, that's what I think," Thorpe put in. "Kwesi was a damn sight more pleasant. Nice looking lass, too, especially from my level. Those shorts she was wearing were so bloody tight you could…"

"You could what?" Chantry asked, as Thorpe's voice trailed away without finishing his sentence. She could guess what he had been going to say; Kwesi's garments had clung so closely that the outline of her pussy lips could be made out through the cloth of her shorts and her nipples had stood out clearly through her skimpy crop-top. This wasn't something that bothered Chantry at all; in her former role as a priestess of Sune nudity and sexual matters had been an everyday part of her existence. She was pretty much unshockable. None of her companions realized this, though, and occasionally teasing them could be amusing.

"Uh, get a good look at her bum," Thorpe amended his intended speech. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Chantry said.

"Adversity can build character," Umoja said. "Perhaps Kwesi was as arrogant as her sister before the injury. Or, perhaps, it is inaction that has caused Inshula to become arrogant."

Chantry reflected briefly on her own attitude before the plague had disfigured her. Carefree, cheerful, vain, promiscuous – something not regarded as a sin amongst Sunites – and flighty, and yet she had found courage and compassion when it was needed. Of course, if she had fled with the others, she would still have been beautiful…

Kelleth was thinking along other lines. "A giant wild boar," he said. "Not an easy opponent. Crossbows don't have the stopping power. The right weapon is a spear."

"We have the Zalantar spear still," Aysgarth pointed out. "It's just as well we didn't sell it. We'd have had to buy it back at a loss. One of the spears that we retrieved from the cave-dwelling Batiri is enchanted, too, and I suspect that it is an even better weapon. I must examine it more thoroughly."

"I am skilled with a spear," Umoja said. "Give me an enchanted weapon and I will receive the charge of the boar."

"Excellent," Kelleth said. "If Sa'Sani's duties take us in that direction we might be in business. The bounty on that boar would be a useful addition to our funds."

They had reached Vadin'ya's stall by this time and the tiefling shopkeeper heard his speech. "Do you go to seek out Bal-alak the Mighty, my Cock of the North?" she asked.

"We might," Kelleth said. "It depends on what jobs Sa'Sani has for us, and if Volo has anything he wants us to do, but we will if we get the chance."

"If you do, bring me his tusks," Vadin'ya said. "I will pay you more than would Kwesi. There are uses to which I could put the tusks after the bounty is claimed."

"Handles for enchanted daggers, for instance?" Aysgarth asked.

"You are knowledgeable in the Art," Vadin'ya said. "Indeed it is so. Now, my birds, do you wish to trade?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"What use is a captain without a ship?" Lastri gulped from a mug of beer. Her speech was slurred. As far as Chantry could tell the halfling sea-captain had been drowning her sorrows ever since they brought her into town and left her in the inn to recover from her ordeal.

"If there is anything we can do…" Thorpe said.

"Can't conjure me up a ship, can you?" Lastri took another gulp of beer. "Yeah, there is one thing, maybe. My first mate was eaten, you told me about the bodies you found, and you told me who survived. There's one name not on either list. Nestrul, my second mate. He's a tough old bugger. Good swimmer, too. Maybe he made it ashore and got grabbed by another bunch of them Batiri bastards. Ain't got much gold but, if you can find him, I'd be graceful."

"I think you mean 'grateful'," Chantry corrected her.

"What I said, ain't it? Do this favor for an old sailor-lass, would you, me hearties?"

"We'll look for him, of course," Kelleth said. "We're heading back that way for Sa'Sani anyway, first thing in the morning. We'll keep our eyes open."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The hold of the ship was half empty. "We might have guessed," said Chantry. "The Batiri have been back."

"Or the patrol from Samargol sent some of their mates back to nick the cargo," Thorpe suggested cynically.

"It was the Batiri," Kelleth said. "They tried to hide their tracks but, on a beach and heavily laden, they can't fool me."

"Or me," said Umoja. "They went into those rocks."

"Where that stone door was," Aysgarth said. "Only this time we have the key."

"Stay here," Kelleth ordered the bearers. "Start retrieving what's still in the ship. We'll call you when we have the rest of it." He drew an arrow from his quiver. "Let's go to work."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

It was usually Thorpe's duty to open doors. He was too short to reach the keystone without assistance, however, and so it was Aysgarth who laid the carved rock in place. The door swung open and they rushed in.

Goblin warriors and trained dinosaurs met them. Kelleth loosed one arrow and then drew sword and dagger. Yushai faced a Batiri dinosaur and the two beasts clashed in a whirl of fangs and claws. Umoja impaled a shrieking axe-wielder with the enchanted spear. Chantry and Aysgarth stayed at the rear and cast spells. Thorpe threw darts until a goblin slipped past Kelleth and then drew a short sword for close action.

Yushai tore out the throat of his opponent and uttered a deep hiss of victory. He stepped over the body and seized a Batiri with his fanged jaws. Umoja's spear jammed in the body of a goblin. He released the weapon and pulled out a short razor-sharp sickle. Kelleth thrust, parried, thrust again, and slew two goblins. He made for the Batiri chieftain. Aysgarth hit the goblin with a Ray of Frost. Before the chieftain could recover Kelleth had driven his blade through the Batiri's chest. The ranger looked around for fresh opponents but found none. The fight was over.

"Well, that was a lot easier than last time," Chantry commented. She now wore full plate armor, purchased in Samargol with the reward money from Sa'Sani, and she had come through the fight entirely unscathed.

"We have much better gear," said Kelleth, "and our new recruits made a lot of difference. You fight well, friend," he said to Umoja, "and your dinosaur quite eclipsed those of the Batiri."

"Yushai is no ordinary T'saagan," Umoja said, "but is one of the sacred beasts of Ubtao. The savages have none such. You are a fine warrior too, Kelleth."

"Thanks," Kelleth said. "I do my best."

The missing cargo crates were piled up in plain sight. "Mission accomplished," Chantry said. "Let's see what else we can find."

"This time I have plenty of Identify spells and Lore potions," Aysgarth said. "We can pick out the good stuff straight away." He chanted a mystic phrase. "Starting with that chief's headdress," he said. "Powerful magic. I'll check it out."

"Is that a human tied up back there?" Thorpe said. He moved on to investigate the inner recesses of the cave. "Yes, it is. The missing second mate, I think. He looks in a bad way."

"I'm on it," Chantry said. She hastened to the aid of the captive.

"Interesting," Aysgarth said, as he examined the feathered headdress. "This is enchanted, indeed, and the charms are those of knowledge. The wearer gains insights into the ways of the jungle." He grinned at Kelleth. "With this on you'd be as skilled here as you are at home, or very nearly, and the only down side is that you'll look like a complete pillock."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Do you think Volo is fucking Sa'Sani?"

Kelleth's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He glanced around the dining room to see if any other residents of the inn were within hearing range. "Chantry!" he exclaimed. "That is unkind."

Chantry rolled her eyes. "They're both adults," she said. "Sa'Sani isn't married, if Volo is married he's kept it a big secret – hardly likely, as his favorite occupation is telling stories about himself – and I don't see any reason why they shouldn't screw each other blind. I'm only wondering because, if they are, it would explain why Volo's sticking to her side like glue."

"You have a point," said Aysgarth. "Volo, the great explorer, is staying put in Samargol and relying on us to give him the material for his travelers' tales. It doesn't seem in character. Unless, that is, it's what he's always done and all the first-hand accounts are just made up."

"I've spoken to people who've met Volo in some pretty dangerous places," Kelleth said. "He exaggerates, certainly, but I'm sure there's always a core of truth in his tales. This isn't his usual style, I agree, but I can't see your explanation as being the correct one."

"He spent half the voyage moaning about how his publishers wouldn't touch his _Complete Guide to the Behavior of Nymphs_ because they felt it was 'too naughty'," Chantry said. "Sa'Sani is an attractive woman. I bet he'd fuck her if he got the chance."

"Yeah, you're right there," said Thorpe. He drained his goblet of small beer and set the vessel down.

"Sa Sani is too much of a lady for such behavior," Kelleth said. He laid down his fork on his empty plate and pushed it aside.

"Then why does she let him hang around?" Chantry asked. "Okay, have it your way, she keeps him close by because of his scintillating conversation. She wasn't a captive audience for two months of sea voyage, unlike us, so I suppose she can put up with him for a while."

"She's expanding her trading operations in Neverwinter, I gather," Kelleth said. "Maybe she wants to learn as much about conditions there as possible."

"Our economy's in the privy since the Shadow War," Chantry said. "What more is there to learn?"

"Some people can make money even in the worst of times," Aysgarth said. "Not me, alas, but she seems to be a very shrewd businesswoman. If anyone can, it will be her."

"Okay, her interest is purely commercial," Chantry said, "and she's taking advantage of Volo drooling over her to pick his brains. And that gives us the chance to make some money doing Volo's little jobs." She finished the last morsel from her plate and set it aside. "Right, let's pick up Umoja, go kill the wild boar, and get double pay by collecting from Vadin'ya and then telling Volo all about it."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Bal-alak was as mighty and as ferocious as Inshula and Kwesi had described. Almost as high as a horse but far bulkier, a compact mass of hide, muscle, and tusks, an intimidating sight. It charged as soon as it saw the adventurers. It ignored arrows and sling bullets and rushed on with undiminished vigor. Umoja set the undergrowth to entangling the boar's legs but it just pulled itself free with sheer brute power and momentum.

Kelleth and Umoja met it with braced spears. The monstrous animal impaled itself on the points but kept coming, trying to force itself up the spears to reach the men, chomping its jaws and slashing with its tusks.

Yushai tore at its flanks with claws and teeth. Thorpe tried to hamstring it. Aysgarth hit it with a Ray of Frost. Most of Chantry's combat spells were geared towards facing humanoid opponents and so she occupied herself with casting charms to strengthen the other party members.

After a few moments of frantic activity the boar at last slumped to the ground. Chantry checked the others for wounds and healed a long gash where the tusks had laid Kelleth's forearm open to the bone.

"That's some tough hide," Kelleth commented. "It would make good armor, I think. We could probably sell it for a good price."

"The meat's probably even tougher," said Chantry. "I like roast pork but I won't be eating that."

"Yushai will feed well," Umoja said, "once we have skinned the beast."

"He has the teeth for it," Chantry said, "but I haven't. I'll stick to our packed rations." She sighed. "I've never skinned a boar before, but I'll help, if you show me what to do."

"I take it you're not a farm girl, then," said Kelleth.

"Neverwinter City born and bred," Chantry said. "We have slaughter-men to do that sort of thing."

"In the jungle all must be their own slaughter-men," said Umoja. "I am accustomed to such tasks. It will not take long for Kelleth and me to skin the beast. There is no need for you to assist."

"Yes," said Kelleth, "we'll do it. You keep your hands clean in case we get into another fight and you have more wounds to treat. Leave this to the professionals."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The clash of steel on steel, cries of pain, and shouted orders. Unmistakable signs that there was a battle ahead. Kelleth led them in a cautious advance towards the sounds of combat.

A patrol of Samarachan soldiers, half a dozen in number, was hotly engaged in a fight against a score of reptilian humanoids. It appeared that the humans were losing. One went down, struck by a volley of javelins, and lay still.

"Firenewts," Umoja said. "They can breathe out gouts of fire. They take small harm from fire and so, Aysgarth, a Fireball would have little effect."

"They're too close to the soldiers anyway," said Aysgarth. He cast Mage Armor on himself.

"There's a colony in Neverwinter Wood," Kelleth said. "I've fought them before. It's a pity I have no Ice Arrows."

"I have some Ice Bullets," Chantry said.

"Excellent," Kelleth said. "Buff up and we'll hit them."

The firenewts responded at once when Kelleth began to loose arrows. Half of them kept on fighting the Samarachans and the rest charged the newcomers. They hurled burning darts as they came. Five of the reptilians fell to arrows, sling bullets, and to a Ray of Frost from Aysgarth. The survivors drew swords and axes as they came to close quarters.

The firenewts were ferocious, and reasonably skilled with their weapons, but they had taken too many losses in their charge. Without the advantage of numbers they could not prevail. They were dead in moments and Kelleth's party turned their attention to those still attacking the Samarach patrol.

When the fighting ended all the firenewts were dead. Two of the Samarachans lay motionless alongside them. The other soldiers were all wounded and one, his leg shattered and bone splinters protruding through the skin, was screaming in agony. Other than Thorpe, who had a minor burn on his forehead, none of Kelleth's group had suffered injury.

Chantry rushed to the man with the compound fracture and cast the most powerful healing spell in her repertoire. His screaming stopped. "You might need to get that looked at by another healer later," Chantry told the soldier. "I can't guarantee the bone will have set straight."

"Foreigners," one of the soldiers grunted. A plume on his helmet indicated that he was an officer or sergeant. "We didn't need your help."

"In another minute you'd all have been dead," Kelleth pointed out.

"We would have overcome our foes," another soldier claimed. He bore mace rather than sword and his shield was emblazoned with the fiery sword emblem of Tempus instead of the arms of Samarach. His first action after the fighting ended had been to cast a healing spell on himself. He sneered at Chantry. "We needed no aid from filthy foreigners and their incompetent priests."

"Incompetent priests?" Chantry bared her teeth. "You left a man screaming on the ground while you healed yourself of minor cuts. You are a disgrace."

"Hold your tongue, foreign scum," the patrol cleric growled. "Tempus will not be mocked."

Chantry drew in a deep breath. Aysgarth hastily put his hand over her mouth.

"Go away, foreigners," another soldier said. Blood was dripping from a gash that ran all the way along his arm. "We'll not let you loot our fallen."

"O-kay," Kelleth said. "We'll leave you to the aftermath of your glorious victory. Come on, people, we'll go."

Chantry forced herself to relax, choked back the tirade that had been ready to spill forth, and exhaled. Aysgarth took his hand away from her mouth. She allowed him to lead her away after Kelleth.

They followed the trail of dead firenewts back the way they had come, pausing to loot the corpses, and re-entered the jungle. As soon as they were out of sight of the soldiers Chantry drew breath and let loose with a stream of vituperation.

"I won't argue," said Kelleth. "That was unbelievable. I've encountered ingratitude before but that sets new records."

"Paranoid bastards," said Thorpe. "Got a moment to patch up my face, Chantry? One of those bloody newts caught me with a fire belch."

"Sure thing," Chantry said. She healed Thorpe's burns and then returned to the topic of the Samarachans. "What is it with the locals, anyway? Do they get taught xenophobia at their mothers' knees? Or do they just like going out of their way to be unpleasant?"

"They fear the yuan-ti," Umoja explained. "They see them in every shadow. Anyone unfamiliar they suspect may be a yuan-ti spy."

"I don't get it," Chantry said. "What's the big deal with the snake people? Why so paranoid? The sarrukh fucked us over pretty badly in Neverwinter but we didn't… oh. Yeah. Fenthick and Aribeth. Ignore what I just said. Although we tend to welcome foreigners. Unless they're Luskans. Uh, I think I'll stop digging."

"The pure-blood yuan-ti can pass for humans," Umoja went on. "The people of Samarach are convinced that the snake-men walk amongst them, plotting to seize power, and that they will enslave the humans if they are not kept at bay with constant vigilance."

"Huh. The people at the top probably are the frigging yuan-ti," Chantry said. "Or they just keep the paranoia whipped up good to make sure no-one can threaten their hold on power."

"Indeed," said Umoja. "There are good people in this country but, in my experience, they are a minority."

"Well, I vote that, if we see any more Samarachan soldiers getting their heads kicked in, we just leave them to it," Chantry said. "Why put our lives on the line just to get abused?"

"Seems fair enough to me," Thorpe agreed.

"And me," Aysgarth said.

"It goes against all my training as a ranger," Kelleth said, "but I see your point. Perhaps, though, that patrol was a group of malcontents, a punishment detail or similar, and their behavior may not be typical."

"The bunch that met us on the beach were a right lot of bastards," Chantry pointed out. "That Elite Leader bitch, for instance."

"I know, I know," Kelleth said, "but the circumstances are different. We will give them another chance. If we happen upon another group in a like situation we shall help them out again. If we meet with similar ingratitude, however, then they can fend for themselves in the future."

"Fair enough," said Chantry. "That cleric of Tempus was an absolute shit, wasn't he? Not exactly a shining advertisement for the service of the god of War."

"As a worshipper of the goddess of Peace I'm no fan of Tempus anyway," Kelleth said.

"Yeah," Chantry said. A wide grin spread over her face and she began to sing.

"_War! Huh! Yeah!_

_What is it good for?_

_Absolutely nothing._

_Uh ha hah ha._

_War! Huh! Yeah!_

_What is it good for?_

_Absolutely nothing… say it again…_"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"So, my birds, you fought firenewts?" Vadin'ya beamed as the adventurers, happy with the payment she had given them, examined her stock. "Perhaps you would be interested in another task for me, yes?"

"If it pays as well as this one, and doesn't conflict with anything Sa Sani wants of us, certainly," said Kelleth. "What is it that you wish, Vadin Ya?"

"The weapons of the common firenewts bear flame for only moments," the merchant said, "but their chieftains wield great axes that keep their fires for years. I desire such a weapon for Artiuk. Bring me one and I will pay you well."

"Such an axe would be of great use to us too," Kelleth pointed out.

"You are a sword-wielder, my falcon," Vadin'ya riposted, "and a great-axe is not your weapon of choice. Perhaps, though, if you bring me the axe I could find you a sword of equivalent abilities."

Kelleth nodded. "It's a deal."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

They staggered out of the salt mines of Smergol battered, burned, and blood-spattered. Chantry and Umoja were totally out of healing spells and had been forced to fall back on bandages.

"Next time," Chantry croaked out, "let's take them by surprise when they're fighting Samarach soldiers. It's so much easier."

"We won," Kelleth said, "and we have the fire-axe. I just hope your friend Vadin Ya is sufficiently grateful."

"We might get a reward from the locals," Aysgarth said, "seeing as how we've cleared the mine for them. On past form, though, I'm not that hopeful."

"We're getting some good stuff anyway," said Thorpe. He was treading carefully, unwilling to risk even a slight fall, as he had been killed during the fight in the mines and Chantry had Raised him with the aid of a scroll. The experience had left him fragile, vulnerable to a second death at the least injury, until the healers regained some spells and could restore his health. "Like that scimitar we picked up in the crypt yesterday. Decent bit of kit, that is."

"Indeed," Kelleth agreed, "and without it I don't think I could have defeated the firenewt chieftain."

"I hadn't realized you could use a scimitar," Chantry commented. "It's not a usual weapon for a Neverwinter ranger."

"You'd be surprised," Kelleth said. "I wasn't the only one who heard about Drizzt as a lad and wanted to be like him. I learnt with a scimitar first, before the long-sword, and only switched over when I gained an enchanted sword. I haven't used a scimitar since before the war but it all came back to me."

"Lucky for us," Chantry said. "If Vadin'ya can enchant it with a flame charm it will be better than the axe."

"Or ice," said Kelleth, "for the firenewts. Although fire is always useful for killing trolls."

Chantry glanced over her shoulder at the mine exit. "We're doing well here," she commented. "Making good money, getting some good kit, and if this place wasn't so fucking paranoid we'd be getting a good reputation too. The thing is, this is all the standard stuff. Looting crypts, fighting humanoids, getting treasure. Nothing we couldn't be doing back home. Why was this so important to my goddess? Why was I commanded to come here?"

"And important to Ubtao," Umoja said. "There must be more to it, yes. No doubt we shall learn the purpose of the gods later. You have been in this land how long?"

"Not quite two tendays," Kelleth said.

"Do not be so impatient, then, friend Chantry," Umoja advised her. "The gods move in their own time. You will find out soon enough."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"That fucking settles it," Chantry said. Once more the party had intervened to save a Samarachan patrol getting the worst of a battle with monsters, this time a Batiri warband, and once more their aid had been met with hostility and even threats of arrest. "The next time we see those bastards getting eaten we cheer on the other side."

Kelleth sighed. "I must, reluctantly, agree with you," he said. "If the Greycloaks behaved like that Lord Nasher would have them flogged. The Samarachan soldiers are, as you say, not worth saving. I have encountered Luskans who have behaved with more honor and courtesy."

"If the yuan-ti did take the place over it would probably be an improvement," Chantry said.

"Do not say such things, even in jest," Umoja cautioned her. "It would bring your instant arrest if you were overheard."

Chantry rolled her eyes. "Which rather proves my point," she said. "The whole country is a – what the fuck was that?"

A flash of light had lit up the evening sky. The party stared upwards. The sun had only just set, the sky was still light over in the west, and usually the Tears of Selûne, the asteroids that orbited trailing behind the moon, could not be seen until it was fully dark. Not tonight. One of them was glowing bright enough to outshine the moon. The others were illuminated by its radiance and were clearly visible. The glowing point of light grew bigger, faded, and then went out.

"I don't know," Kelleth said, "but I don't think it's good."

Aysgarth stared at the heavens and his brow furrowed. "I think," he said slowly, "that one of the Tears of Selûne just exploded."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Disclaimer: 'Storm of Zehir' is the property of Atari, Obsidian Entertainment, and Wizards of the Coast Inc. Song lyrics quoted are from 'Buffalo Skinners' by Big Country and 'War' by Edwin Starr. Lyrics used without permission.


	4. Restless Natives and Rarities

**Chapter Four: Restless Natives and Rarities**

_We lay the night in anguish, snakes drawn out by the tide  
The compass of decision falls always on one side  
But many went before us, and still the cries are clear  
There is no beauty here, just the stench of wine and beer  
We save no souls  
We break no promises_

_Yay yi-oh_

_Ee-yay yi-oh_

_We can do nothing more than move on headlong through the gloom  
The thorn between our lips is the missionaries' tune  
Men with open arms turn their faces half away  
Observe as we approach that we have not come to save  
We stand as thick as vines though the fruit is torn away  
There is no beauty here, friends, just death and dark decay_

(Big Country, _Lost Patrol_)

Artiuk the half-orc caressed his new axe. "Impressive," he said, the first time the adventurers had heard him speak in anything but grunts. His voice, now that he spoke, was deep and surprisingly cultured. "I thank you."

"You have pleased Artiuk," Vadin'ya said, "and so you have pleased me. I have given you gold, and so I have pleased you, my falcon. Is this not good?"

"It is," Kelleth said. "Are there any other items you are after?"

Vadin'ya nodded. "In the jungles of the Samarloch, I hear, lives a tribe of Batiri called the Shattered Spear. In their caves lie gems so pure and flawless it is as if they were cut by magic – and a perfect conduit for it, I think. Only one gem is all I require – but even getting that, my falcon, will be tricky enough. It is up to you how it comes into your possession. By barter, perhaps, or by theft, or by battle – I care not. You will be well paid." She fluttered her eyelashes at Kelleth.

"I'll see what I can do," Kelleth said.

"Chantry, my friend," Vadin'ya said, turning away from Kelleth, "when next you have time to spend an evening in this city, free from the demands of Sa'Sani, come and dine with me." She turned back to Kelleth. "Alas, my falcon, this invitation is for Chantry alone. A chance for some girl talk. Dresses, and shoes, and of course poking fun at men. You will have to spend that time doing man things; drinking beer, and playing darts, and lamenting that the foreigners' quarter of this city possesses no taverns which feature exotic dancers."

"Damn, she's rumbled us," Thorpe said, grinning.

"Fair enough," said Kelleth. He looked at Chantry and his brow furrowed slightly.

Chantry guessed that Kelleth was about to make some comment about her not being interested in feminine chatter. She hastened to pre-empt him. "I'd love to, Vadin'ya," she said.

"I shall look forward to it," Vadin'ya said. She glanced back at Kelleth. "Another time, my falcon. Now, I sense that you must fly."

"That's right," Kelleth said. "Sa Sani is sending us on a mission into the jungle."

"Just as a change from the last couple she sent us on," Chantry said. "Those were, if I recall correctly, to the jungle and, yes, the jungle."

"This time it's to the north," Kelleth went on, ignoring Chantry. "The Samarloch is up that way, too, is it not? Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone and get your gem on the same trip."

"I hope no birds are killed, my falcon," Vadin'ya said, "but yes, perhaps you can combine the two things. I wish you luck."

"Wait," Aysgarth put in. "Kelleth wants to have some elemental damage charms put onto his new scimitar. Can you do it for us?"

Vadin'ya shook her head. "If I could, my crane, would I have needed you to take the axe from the fire-newts? I make potions. Enchanting weapons is a job for a mage. Surely a skilled wizard such as you could easily perform such a task?"

Aysgarth screwed up his eyes and wrinkled his nose. "I know the theory," he said, "and I've purchased a scroll of instructions from Osi Tchaluka, but I've never actually done it. I wouldn't like to try without a more experienced practitioner to guide me through the process. Do you know anyone like that? One who doesn't turn aside and spit on the ground when he sees a foreigner?"

"I do not, northern stork," Vadin'ya told him, "but you are welcome to use my laboratory if you are bold enough to try it for yourself. What do you have to lose?"

"Four thousand gold coins' worth of ingredients," Aysgarth said, "turned into useless sludge if it goes wrong."

"It won't," Chantry said. "You're too careful and methodical for that. I say go for it."

"Hmm." Aysgarth nodded slowly and looked at the party leader. "What say you, Kelleth? If I screw it up it might damage the scimitar."

Kelleth tilted his head slightly to the side and studied his friend for a moment. "I agree with Chantry," he said. "I don't think you'll make any mistakes. I trust you, Aysgarth."

"Why don't you try it out on a dagger or something first?" Thorpe suggested.

"Good idea," Kelleth agreed. "Okay, Aysgarth, do it."

"Very well," Aysgarth said. "If you will show me to your laboratory, lady Vadin'ya, I will try my hand at enchanting the weapons."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Halt!" The Samarach patrol, ten in number, was formed up in a line across the road. The officer, a captain in gilded mail, held up his hand. "You there! Stop and submit to testing."

"Testing?" Kelleth raised his eyebrows. "What sort of testing?"

"The magical kind," replied the captain, waving his hand vaguely in the direction of a patrol member in wizard's robes. "There have been reports of yuan-ti agents in the area and we have been ordered to root them out."

"Peace, warrior," said Umoja. "I am a priest of great Ubtao, creator of Chult. We are free of the touch of the snake people, I can assure you."

"We don't follow your dinosaur god, jungle-lover," said the officer. He spat on the ground. "You spend so much time there you have the _best_ chance of being involved with the yuan-ti. Now, submit to testing or die."

Umoja's nostrils flared. Chantry showed her teeth. "Very well," Kelleth said hastily, "perform your test."

"A wise decision," the captain said. "Let's see now. Ah. _Very_ interesting. The magic says you have been in contact with yuan-ti recently. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"That you must think we're stupid," Aysgarth said. "Your wizard didn't even cast any spell."

"He did, and the magic never lies," the captain claimed. "Now, I can overlook this in return for a small donation to the funds for the defense of the realm. Two thousand in gold should suffice."

"If there is one thing worse than an extortionist it's an extortionist in uniform," Kelleth said. "You aren't getting a single coin. I'll be sure to tell Sa'Sani about this so that she can have a word with your superiors."

"You will tell no-one, foreign fool," the officer growled. "Kill them!" He raised his great-sword. Behind him the patrol's wizard cast Ghostly Visage to shield himself from attack.

Kelleth parried the officer's sword-stroke and, for a moment, the two men were locked in the corps-à-corps position. Kelleth stabbed with his left-hand dagger but it failed to penetrate his opponent's lamellar armor; its new fiery enchantment flared ineffectually as the leather beneath the metal protected the Samarachan from any searing. He ignored the blow and continued to force his great-sword forward. Kelleth couldn't hold the man back with only his right arm and was compelled to bring his dagger hand up in support. The officer brought up his knee; Kelleth twisted and took the blow on his thigh.

The other members of the patrol had followed the officer's lead and attacked. Aysgarth hit the wizard with a volley of Magic Missiles; the Samarachan's retaliatory volley was absorbed by Aysgarth's Brooch of Shielding and did no harm. Thorpe ducked under a scimitar stroke and drove his Batiri short-sword into a patrolman's groin. Umoja sent Yushai forward, to tear soldiers apart with claws and fangs, and summoned lighting from the heavens to strike down his enemies.

Chantry went to Kelleth's aid. Her mace still hung at her belt; she did not draw it but reached out with her bare hand, touched the patrol leader's shoulder, and spoke a single word. After that she spun to face an oncoming soldier and grabbed for her weapon.

Kelleth had expected more from Chantry. He didn't have time to speak, or even to frown, but concentrated on holding off his foe; a task that gradually became easier as the officer's arms began to shake. A flush spread across the man's face; not the red of exertion but the livid hue of a virulent fever. The shaking grew worse, the sword wobbled, and Kelleth was able to force the other man back.

Chantry battered a soldier to the ground and crushed his skull with her mace. Thorpe slipped behind a man who was squaring off against Umoja and slashed across the back of his legs. The soldier fell to the ground, crippled, and Umoja finished him off. Yushai reached the wizard, who was reeling under the impact of Aysgarth's spells, and disemboweled him with raking claws.

Kelleth's opponent swung his great-sword again. The stroke was clumsy and slow. Kelleth parried with ease, riposted, and laid the officer's throat open to the bone. He danced back, raising scimitar and dagger in a guard position, and looked for another opponent.

There wasn't one. The Samarachans were all down and none of them were moving. The fight was over.

"Did I mention," Chantry remarked, kneeling down beside a corpse and checking it for valuables, "that I hate this stinking country and almost everyone in it?"

"You may have mentioned something along those lines," Kelleth said. He followed her example and began to check out the deceased officer. "Hmm. Nice sword. Probably enchanted. What did you do to this bloke? He was giving me a few problems at first but then he just caved in."

"Contagion," Chantry replied. "I infected him with the Red Ague."

Kelleth winced. "Nice one. Thanks."

Aysgarth had just reached his late opposite number and was bending down towards the body. He paused and straightened up. "I thought that spell took an hour or so to take effect," he remarked. "Too slow to be much use in combat."

Chantry lifted a pouch from the belt of a dead soldier and shook it. "Mmm, heavy," she remarked. "Extortion must be profitable." She stashed the pouch away and turned to Aysgarth. "That may be the case for the servants of other gods," she replied to his comment, "but not for a priestess of Talona in good standing. I hear the priestesses of the other Bridesmaids can get the same instant reaction too, these days, although most of them probably wouldn't use it."

"I'll make a note of that," Aysgarth said, and stooped to begin looting the corpse of the Samarachan mage.

"Contagion might not have been the best combat choice, on second thoughts," Chantry mused. "Some can resist it, and if he had suffered from the disease in the past he would have been immune, and maybe casting Bull's Strength on Kelleth would have been more sensible. It seemed right, however, and it will have pleased my goddess."

"It worked, and that's what matters," Kelleth said. He held up three potion vials, one empty and two full of a dark liquid. "I think this bloke had taken a Bull's Strength potion," he said. "He doesn't look muscular enough to have given me such a hard time otherwise. Check them out, Chantry."

"Sure thing," she agreed. She took them from him, held the full ones up against the light and scrutinized them, and ran a finger around the lip of the empty one and then touched it to her tongue. "Yes, you're right. Bull's Strength. They'll come in handy."

"Excellent," Kelleth said, nodding his head. "I think this sword is enchanted. I don't use a great-sword, but we should make a good sum when we sell it."

"Their mage had a Ring of Protection, and a pair of basic Bracers of Defense," Aysgarth added. "We have profited from this encounter."

Thorpe had spotted that one of the fallen patrolmen was still breathing. "Shame their armor's a bit too recognizable for us to flog," he remarked, thrusting a short dagger into the man's throat, "but I've picked up a few pouches of gold. A couple of hundred coins." He pulled the knife free and wiped the blade clean. "Not a bad afternoon's work."

"More importantly, we have ended their extortion racket," Kelleth said, "and that benefits everyone."

"They're dead, we're alive, and we've made a profit," Chantry said. "I'll call it a win. The sun is shining – unfortunately making me far too hot in this armor – birds are singing, and hairy tropical spiders are doing whatever horrible spiders do. Of course I still have no idea why my goddess has sent me out here, to the arse end of nowhere, while all sorts of big things are happening elsewhere…"

"Such as planetoids exploding," Aysgarth put in. "I really want to find out more about that but no-one around here seems to know anything. I'd love to be able to talk to someone from the Observatory at Waterdeep."

"Exactly," Chantry said. "Still, maybe it'll become clear in time. Let's go find that jewel for Vadin'ya."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The Batiri sentries outside the cave of the Shattered Spear clan held their spears in the guard position and made no immediate move to attack. "Halt, humans," the tallest sentry called, in passable Common. "You walk in lands of Shattered Spear clan, most powerful of the Batiri. Why you come? You wish to see Matriarch?"

Kelleth had nocked an arrow but he refrained from drawing back the string. This was a more civilized greeting than he expected. "If that's your leader, then yes," he replied.

"Enter, then," said the guard. "Seek out largest chamber. You no attack us, we no attack you."

"Fair enough," Kelleth said. He returned his arrow to its quiver, as a gesture of good faith, and led the party into the cave mouth.

Warrior goblins watched them with wary eyes, as they made their way through the cave tunnels, but made no move to attack. The group reached a large chamber, illuminated by flickering torches, in which a small rivulet of water splashed down over the rock wall at one side and poured into an underground pool. A carved wooden throne, decorated with skulls, dominated the room. On it sat a wizened goblin woman, her green skin covered in red and blue tattoos, wearing a crown of colorful feathers.

"I am Cuamogh, Matriarch of Shattered Spear Clan," the goblin queen introduced herself. "You are humans from Northlands, slayers of the great boar Bala'lak."

Kelleth raised his eyebrows. "That's right," he said. "I didn't think we were that well known. I'm Kelleth Gill."

"The jungle did not claim you, Kelleth Gill of the North. There must be strength in you," Cuamogh said. "I see you wear Wisdom Headdress of Stone Knife chief. How did you get it?"

"He had no further use for it," Kelleth replied, resting his hand on the hilt of his scimitar ready to draw it if his answer provoked an attack, "after I put my sword through his heart."

The Matriarch grinned. "Stone Knives are our enemies," she said. "You are strong warrior. Why do you come here to Shattered Spears?"

"We've heard your tribe possesses gems of great purity," Kelleth explained. "The merchant Vadin Ya wishes to obtain one and has sent us to you."

"I will not give you one, Kelleth Gill," the matriarch said, "but there is a thing you could offer in trade. The relic of our clan, the giver of our name."

"A shattered spear?" Thorpe asked.

"A sacred relic," Aysgarth deduced. "A leader's weapon, no doubt."

"The spear of Ksshomog, once consort of Khurgorbaeyag," the goblin confirmed. "She grew so strong he feared her, and exiled her to the jungle. She said no more would females be seen as weak, but be most feared, most respected."

"I can relate to that," Chantry muttered under her breath.

"With her spear she slew her enemies, founded all tribes of Batiri, but we alone carried it," Cuamogh went on. "Then snake people broke it, stole it, feared it so much they hid it in one of their temples. Return it to us and you shall have jewel stone."

"How do we know you'll hold up your end of the deal?" Chantry asked, bluntly, drawing a frown from Kelleth.

The queen seemed not to be offended. "By the gods of the jungle and the dark, and the soul of she who was Matriarch before me, I speak truth," she declared.

"Then we have a deal," said Kelleth. "Which temple?"

"South, walk for one hour," Cuamogh informed him, "but beware. Even my strongest warriors have died in that place, not long after they entered."

"It could be poison gas," Chantry speculated, "in which case I can keep us safe. Although if it was fire damp we'd have to be careful not to set off an explosion, and I'm not immune to suffocation if it was black damp…"

"On the other hand," Aysgarth said, "it could be that the temple has an active population of the yuan-ti. We have defeated several groups of Batiri, it's true, but we can't take it for granted that we can defeat a foe who has slain bands of picked warriors."

"We'd better make sure we're as well armed as possible. First, we'll make a detour to Taruin," Kelleth decided, referring to the town nearest to the Shattered Spear caverns. "Sell off the gear we've picked up and see what useful stuff we can get in exchange."

"We won't get as good a price as Vadin'ya or Mendar would give us," Thorpe pointed out, "and I bet they won't sell us any decent weapons either. We'd be better off going back to Samargol."

"Maybe," Kelleth said, "but that's three times as far away, and Sa Sani would probably moan about us coming back before we've done the job she gave us. At least we'll be able to pick up a stock of potions. That'll mean you two," he nodded at Chantry and Umoja, "can take some extra combat spells instead of cures."

"Indeed so, Kelleth," Umoja agreed. "A good idea. I shall plan carefully how I shall smite the yuan-ti, the ancient enemies of my people."

"Yeah, we need to stock up," Thorpe said. He turned to the Batiri Matriarch. "Got any decent weapons we could trade you for, your Matriarchness?"

The goblin queen grinned, showing pointed teeth, and nodded. "If you use them against snake people, you can take weapons." She gestured toward a rack propped up against the cave wall. "Take what you want. Kill snake people."

"Thank you, Matriarch," Kelleth said, and led his group over to the weapon rack. "Hey, there's some good stuff here," he commented.

"Indeed so," Aysgarth agreed. "I can sense enhancing charms upon this spear and, yes, on this shield too. Hmm. These arrows also."

"Definitely useful," Kelleth said.

"These Batiri are decent sorts," Thorpe said.

"Yeah, nicer than most of the humans in these parts," Chantry said. "Let's take the weapons and kick some yuan-ti butt." She frowned. "Do yuan-ti actually have butts?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The stone ruins were almost completely overgrown with jungle vegetation. A stairway, its stone slabs cracked and moss-covered, led down from an arched entry and disappeared into an underground tunnel.

"Doesn't look inhabited," Thorpe said. They had already searched two other piles of ruins without finding any trace of either yuan-ti or the Batiri holy relic. They had, however, retrieved two valuable emeralds from the eye sockets of a crumbling statue.

"Don't take any chances," Kelleth warned. "We assume it's inhabited, and guarded, until we have evidence to the contrary. Thorpe, you take point. Umoja, you and Yushai bring up the rear. We're going in."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The tunnel led into a dimly-lit chamber. A shaft in the ceiling allowed light through from some collapsed room far overhead. Creepers wound their way across the opening, their leaves filtering the light and turning it an eerie green hue, and a faint breeze could be detected. Two giant statues of snakes, their jaws gaping open to display their fangs, dominated the room. The bases of the statues were set in huge stone trays filled with soil, with plants growing around the carved coils, simulating the jungle environment which would be the serpents' natural habitat.

"Just carved stone for the eyes, not gems," Thorpe complained. "Cheapskates."

"There won't be any poison gas pockets," Chantry said, glancing up at the opening in the ceiling. "That's a plus. The down side is that I get the feeling this place isn't deserted."

"The floor is clear of debris," Kelleth observed, scanning the mosaic tiles that paved the chamber. "It's in use. Definitely."

"Trap," Thorpe warned. He tiptoed forward and disarmed the trigger. "Lightning bolt trap," he said. "Set recently, not some old relic that's been lying here for years. The temple is open for business and they're serious about not wanting gatecrashers."

There were three doors set into the far wall. Kelleth cautiously made his way to each of them in turn, pressed his ear against them, and listened. "I could hear movements," he said, after returning to the others, keeping his voice low. "The yuan-ti clergy are in residence. Prepare for a fight."

Chantry, Aysgarth, and Umoja began casting protective and enhancing spells, starting with those of longest duration, on all the members of the party.

Thorpe carried out a further examination of the doors. "No traps," he reported. "The doors on the left and the right are unlocked, the one in the middle is locked and there doesn't seem to be any way to pick it. I'm not keen on knocking."

"Leave it for last," Kelleth said. "Start with the one on the left, but watch out for foes coming forth from the others when we start making noise." Umoja nodded and, accompanied by his dinosaur, took up a rearguard position.

Kelleth threw open the left-hand door and entered. He was confronted by a Yuan-ti Abomination, the first he had ever seen, and two mechanical golems in the forms of spiders. Kelleth loosed an arrow and the battle was on.

The yuan-ti resembled a huge serpent, some twenty feet long, supporting itself on ten feet of tail and with its body rearing ten feet above the floor. The top section of the torso was similar in shape to that of a human, with muscular shoulders and two arms wielding scimitars, but the head was more like that of a lizard. It writhed forward as fast as a man could run and swung its scimitars at Kelleth.

It was a formidable opponent. Strong, fast, and equally skilful with each arm. It took everything Kelleth had to parry the blows and he could find no opening to strike back. Then Thorpe shot an arrow into its face, it recoiled, and Kelleth seized his chance. He rammed his scimitar blade into its body. The corrosive charm placed upon the blade by Aysgarth activated, turning a serious wound into a mortal one, and the creature collapsed.

One of the mechanical spiders attacked Kelleth even as he slew the Abomination. Its steel claws gashed his leg open almost to the bone. He hacked it apart, while Chantry bludgeoned the other one into scrap, and then the priestess hurriedly performed a cure spell.

Behind them the far door had opened and foes had emerged. A second Abomination, accompanied by another pair of mechanical spiders, were attacking Umoja and Yushai. A Fireball from Aysgarth seriously damaged the spiders, the druid and the dinosaur engaged the Abomination, and then Kelleth finished it off with arrows fired over their heads at the towering creature.

Yushai uttered a shrill chirrup of distress. His right foreleg was hanging limp and useless, with a deep wound visible on his shoulder, and blood was trickling down the limb and dripping on the floor. Chantry scurried across the room to his aid but Umoja had already cast the necessary healing spells. "Is Yushai all right?" Chantry asked. "Do you need any help?"

"I have healed him, friend Chantry," Umoja replied. "All is well."

The deinonychus straightened up, flexed the injured arm, and extended his nose towards Chantry. It was obvious that he recognized the girl had been concerned about him. She stroked the scaly snout and smiled. "Good boy," she said. "Kill those nasty snakes."

"My sentiments exactly," said Kelleth. "They're tough. That dual-wielding scimitar style is hard to beat. It's like fighting a giant reptile version of Drizzt." His brows lowered. "I'm going to have to re-think my style. No time for that now, though, and no time to thoroughly search these chambers. We'd better press on while our buffs are still working. Thorpe, find me a way past that door."

"There's a lever through that way," the halfling reported, indicating the direction with a jerk of his thumb. "I reckon it probably controls the lock. Want me to open it right away?"

"Do it," Kelleth ordered. Thorpe went off to operate the lever and, a moment later, the locked door slid open. Behind it was revealed a corridor leading to another closed door. "They probably haven't heard us yet," Kelleth deduced, "but we can't expect that to last for long. Ready?"

Chantry, Umoja, and Aysgarth refreshed the charms which were of short duration and would be expiring soon. Aysgarth cast Mirror Image on himself. Chantry conjured up a Skeleton Warrior.

Kelleth led the way along the corridor. An unseen tripwire unleashed a spray of darts, spat forth by a concealed nozzle, but the ranger's reflexes were equal to the challenge and he ducked under them unharmed. He reached the inner door and threw it open.

Yet again there was a single Abomination in the room beyond the door, accompanied by a pair of mechanical spiders, but when a side door flew open and reinforcements rushed forth they were more formidable.

Four Yuan-ti Abominations, all heavily armed, and including spell-casters. Entangle spells snared the intruders. Magic Missiles hissed through the air. One of the Abominations wielded his scimitars with a skill and force that none of the humans could match.

Luckily Aysgarth had a card up his sleeve. A well-placed Confusion spell set two of the Abominations to fighting each other. Kelleth, held in place by enchanted vines twined around his feet, loosed a series of accurate arrows. Eventually the last Abomination fell dead.

By that time all of Aysgarth's Mirror Images had been dispelled, Thorpe had collapsed and lay on the floor convulsing as snake venom coursed through his system, and Chantry's skeleton warrior had been shattered into fragments. Not a single member of the party had escaped unscathed; Thorpe was in the worst shape, but Umoja too had been poisoned, and Chantry had a broken arm.

"We will be in trouble if there are more of them through there," Aysgarth commented, pointing at one door that remained closed. "I'm almost out of spells and I doubt if the clerics are much better off."

"Damn right," Chantry said, as she knelt beside Thorpe.

"Check the bodies for weapons, scrolls, wands, and potions," Kelleth ordered Aysgarth.

The wizard obeyed. "This scimitar is enchanted," he reported almost at once. "Powerfully so. No taint of Evil."

"Excellent," Kelleth said. He took the weapon, held it in his left hand, and gave it a practice swing. "A fine weapon, and well balanced," he said. "When I was a lad I used two wooden scimitars, playing at being Drizzt Do'Urden, but I've never used two long weapons in real combat. It might be time to try."

"It's a tricky art to master," Aysgarth cautioned. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Kelleth shrugged. "I was outmatched, fighting sword and dagger against that thing with its two scimitars, and I would have lost but for Thorpe's arrow," he pointed out. "I think it's worth the gamble. What else have you found?"

"A ring holding some moderately powerful shielding charms, and a couple of scrolls," Aysgarth said. "I believe I saw more scrolls on some shelves in the second room we entered. If Thorpe is recovered I shall take him with me to investigate more thoroughly."

Once Chantry and Umoja had patched themselves up, and tended the hurts of all the others, the group went through the final door. Every protective spell remaining had been cast, Aysgarth had a scroll in his hands, and Kelleth held his bow with an arrow nocked and drawn back. Much to their delight all the precautions turned out to be unnecessary. There was nothing in the room but the omnipresent serpent statues – and chests containing treasure. One of them held something that could only be the Shattered Spear.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The goblin queen held the ancient broken spear in both hands and gazed upon it. "Can it be? Yes, it is! None will dare to challenge me now. Cuamogh will be chieftainess, Matriarch, for always!" She laid the spear fragments on the seat of her throne and rummaged in her girdle. "Here, take your stone," she said, producing a large, clear, gem.

The traditional way of referring to the size of large gems was to compare them to the eggs of various birds; Chantry had no knowledge of ornithology, and little interest in eggs unless they were boiled or fried, and she came up blank when she tried to find a suitable comparison. The best she could come up with was 'about the size of the head of a slightly inadequate penis'.

"You gave me, and the Shattered Spear people, a far greater gift," the Matriarch went on. "Let there be peace between us for the future."

"Peace between us," Kelleth repeated. He had been poised for action, expecting that the Batiri would attack as soon as they had their holy relic, and he was caught somewhat off balance by their surprisingly civilized behavior.

"Live long and prosper," Chantry added, quoting a blessing she had heard Rupert Giles call out to the crowd at a concert she had attended.

"Live long and prosper, humans from the North," Cuamogh wished them in return. "Farewell."

"What a fucked-up country," Chantry commented, after they had left the Batiri caverns. "The goblins play straight, and keep their word, but the people are a bunch of lying, cheating, paranoid… shits."

"Not all the people," Kelleth protested. "Umoja is as fine a man as I've ever met…"

"I won't argue with you on that," Chantry interrupted, "but he's not from this country, any more than we are. His homeland is just closer to Samarach than Neverwinter is," she reminded Kelleth. "The same goes for Kwesi. Vadin'ya's a Tiefling – she's not even from this _plane_."

"I'm with Chantry," Thorpe said. "The innkeepers are pretty much the same here as other places, and a few of the merchants don't gouge their customers any worse than they do back home, but nine-tenths of the people are total bastards."

"Oh, I give up," Kelleth said. "Just… don't poison the water supply or anything, okay, Chantry?"

"I won't," Chantry promised. She sighed. "What are we even doing here? Why did my goddess send me to such a shithole?"

"Perhaps to fight the yuan-ti," Umoja suggested.

"What's the big deal about the yuan-ti anyway? They've been around for thousands of years and they haven't done much," Chantry said. "They tried to take over somewhere around Icewind Dale about sixty years ago, killed a few people, and then a bunch of adventurers kicked the shit out of them. Apart from that they just hang out in the jungle. Even if they took over Samarach… frankly, I don't see how they could be any worse than the High Phantasmage's stooges. I doubt if anyone would even be able to tell the difference."

"Their Evil must be opposed," Umoja said. "It is as simple as that. Why do we need more reasons?"

"My goddess doesn't have a problem with Evil," Chantry said. "She has big issues with anyone deliberately spreading disease without doing it in her name, and poisoners who don't placate her tend to slip up terminally before long, but otherwise she really doesn't care. I was sent here on a holy mission but I have no clue why."

"No doubt more will be revealed in time," Aysgarth said. "Perhaps Sa'Sani's contacts with the Sword Coast are significant."

"I hope so," Chantry said, "as it's about the only clue I have. I suppose all we can do, for the time being, is just carry on with what we're doing. Keep working for Sa'Sani until something significant turns up."

"And," Thorpe added, a cheerful grin on his face, "make money in the process."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The clearing in the jungle was protected by walls of energy on three sides. Golems guarded the open side.

"Clockroaches, golems, and what can only be a mechanical logging contraption," Aysgarth said. "Only the Lantanese use such devices."

"I see gnomes," Kelleth said, "and, if I'm not mistaken, some are carrying smoke-powder guns. They are, assuredly, Lantanese. Not what I was expecting in the jungles of Samarach."

"Ubtao will not be pleased if they are despoiling the jungle," Umoja said.

"The Samarach authorities will go absolutely spare if they find out about this," Chantry said. "Mass executions all round, including Sa'Sani for having dealings with them, would be my guess."

"You're probably right," Aysgarth agreed. "I suspect that the energy walls, as well as guarding the compound against wild animals, also contain wards against magical scrying."

The party walked between the golems, who stood motionless and un-reacting, and entered the logging camp. One of the gnomes rushed to meet them.

"Hold it, hold it," he said. "You can't just stroll in here uninvited – and how did you even find this place, anyway?"

"Calm down," Kelleth said. "Sa Sani sent us."

"Gond's titanium tongs, I knew that woman would send someone to bother us one of these days," the gnome said. "It was just a matter of time."

"What do you mean 'one of these days'?" Kelleth asked. "She sent someone a while back. He should have got here at least a ten-day ago. Didn't he get here? Lanky bloke, Samarachan native, talks with a stammer? Had a message for you to send to Crossroads Keep?"

"We wouldn't have been able to send the message anyway," the gnome said. "Our portal's out of action. We can't even send our goods home. No, no-one from Sa'Sani has been here for ages. Not since shortly after we set up this operation."

"Then where the fuck is he?" Chantry wondered. "I suppose it would be too much to hope that he got eaten by a dinosaur, or by the Batiri, on his way here." She gazed at the metal arch of the portal. "Why couldn't we have come here by portal instead of having to spend months on a ship?"

"Sa Sani wasn't going to be too free with a secret that could get her hanged," Kelleth pointed out. "I don't blame her for waiting until she knew she could trust us."

"What's the problem with your portal?" Aysgarth asked.

"The Interface Widget is missing," the gnome said. "Without it we can't dial any destinations and incoming portals won't lock in. We're in a bit of a pickle, frankly, and eventually we're going to have to go looking for a mage to help us out. I just hope we can find one who won't rat us out to the authorities. Maybe you could help? If you could let Sa'Sani know…"

"I did a course on portal theory at the Academy," Aysgarth said. "It wasn't my major, I'm afraid, but I found it quite interesting and I did rather well. From what I remember a standard quartz scrying crystal could be re-tuned to serve as a temporary substitute for an interface. It wouldn't stand up to long-term use, probably only for a handful of trips, but it would let you send someone to Lantan and back to collect a spare."

"I wouldn't know about that," the gnome said. "I'm an administrator, not a mage or an engineer. Dall Nickelplate is the name, in charge of this operation. I can operate the portal but I'm afraid the principles behind it are beyond me. Our chief artificer died a little while ago. About the time the widget disappeared."

"I bet it wasn't coincidence," Chantry said.

"Sabotage, you think? You're probably right," Dall replied. He focused his gaze on Chantry's face. "Is that the sign of Talona I see?"

"Indeed so," Chantry confirmed. "I am a Young Venom in her service."

"Then this might be of interest to you," Dall said. "Hang on a minute." He scuttled away to a tent and returned a minute later bearing a glass vial. "It's a sample of the poison that killed him," he said. "It's nothing I've ever seen before, and none of us could come up with an antidote before he died, but maybe it might mean something to you."

"Did it happen a ten-day ago?" Chantry asked, as she took the vial.

"Indeed it did," the gnome replied. "You can tell the age of the poison at a glance? That's amazing."

Chantry shook her head. "I won't know much about the poison until I can get to a proper lab," she said. "I'm not going to try tasting it; I'm only mostly poison-immune, not totally so. No, it's just that I have a suspect. Luaire. He was supposed to come here to send a message and then stay here as Sa'Sani's trade representative; I'm betting he snuck in instead, sabotaged your portal, and poisoned your artificer."

"Why would he do that?"

"Why did he push me into the sea to drown? Why did he sabotage our ship and run us onto the rocks? I have no fucking idea," Chantry said, "but I plan on asking him. Preferably after staking him out on an anthill."

Umoja had been scanning the surrounding area. "You seem not to have caused the devastation that I had feared," he commented. "You treat the land with respect. Ubtao is pleased."

"We don't want to attract attention," Dall said. "We only made a clear cut in the space we needed for the camp. Outside we're only taking individual trees, concentrating on the most valuable hardwoods, and of course tapping rubber trees for their sap. We can keep doing that indefinitely without killing the trees. Unfortunately it's a little too labor-intensive, as the golems can't really get the hang of it, and a bit risky with all the dinosaurs around, but there's a lot of money in rubber these days."

"Perhaps you could trade for it with the Batiri?" Kelleth suggested.

"Trade? With the Batiri?" Dall's eyebrows climbed. "Oh dear. I don't think that would be terribly safe. They're cannibal savages, you know, and I really don't want to be eaten."

"We have managed to establish friendly relations with the Shattered Spear Batiri clan," Kelleth said. "I could try and set something up, if you like. They played straight with us and I don't see why they'd be any different with you."

"Well, historically goblins and gnomes have been enemies," Dall said, "but these jungle goblins don't really have that same history. If you're sure they won't just try to eat us then, yes, a trade deal could be very advantageous."

"I'll see what I can do, then," said Kelleth.

"Thanks. And, ah, Mr. Wizard, do you think you could do that thing with the substitute widget that you mentioned? I'd be happy to pay you," the gnome went on.

"Of course," Aysgarth said. "It's to our benefit too, remember, as our employer wants you to send a message to her representatives at Crossroads Keep."

"Sure thing," said the gnome. "Oh, this is excellent! When I saw you coming I was expecting trouble but, instead, it's the best thing that's happened to us for quite a while. Thank you, thank you."

"No need to thank us," said Chantry, "just throw money."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"You have taken longer than I expected," Sa'Sani said, her tone severe and her demeanor stern.

"We ran into a few things," Kelleth told her. "We had to fight Batiri, firenewts, yuan-ti, trolls, spiders, wyverns, a green hag, a ghost, a fell troll, even a rogue Fire Giant. Nothing we couldn't handle, though." He refrained from mentioning the Samarach patrol.

"Fascinating," Volo chimed in. "You must tell me all about your adventures."

"Later, my dear Volo," Sa'Sani said. Her gaze swung back to Kelleth. "You have not brought Luaire back with you. Why not?"

"He wasn't there," Kelleth said. "The… occupants of the camp hadn't seen them. We think he'd been there, though; just long enough to sabotage their portal and poison their artificer."

"I repaired the portal for them, and your message has now been delivered, Lady Sa'Sani," Aysgarth added, "but we were unable to locate Luaire."

"Damn it!" Sa'Sani gritted her teeth. "Why is he working against me? Who has suborned him? I need to know."

"We'll try to find him for you, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said, "but if he's in one of the parts of town that doesn't allow foreigners we won't be able to do anything."

"I shall set my agents in the towns to looking for him," Sa'Sani said, "but I am sure that his presence would already have been reported to me, if he was there. No, he must be hiding out somewhere in the wilderness."

"Unless the Batiri ate him," Chantry said.

"He is an accomplished wizard," Sa'Sani said, "and I doubt that he would be easy prey. I believe that he is still alive." She focused on Kelleth once more. "You fought a great many foes for such a simple journey," she said. "I do not object to you diverging from your course to some extent, to gather material for Volo's book, but you seem to have carried it to extremes this time."

"There were some… complications," Kelleth said, "but I think you'll find that it was worthwhile."

Thorpe pulled a bundle from his pack and proffered it to the lady. "Two hundred trade bars," he announced. "We set up a trade deal between the… loggers and a local Batiri clan. They cut you in on it for ten per cent. This is the advance."

Sa'Sani's eyes widened. "I am impressed," she said. "Forgive me for my harsh words. You have done well indeed." She waved aside the package. "Keep them," she told Thorpe. "Osi will give you the value in gold or, if you wish, you may use them to trade as representatives of my House and keep the profits."

"We might just do that," Thorpe said. "Thanks, milady."

"I have an idea about tracking down Luaire," Chantry said. "The… loggers… gave me a sample of the poison he used. It's not anything standard. Once I've identified it I might be able to find where he got it and from that maybe we can track him down."

"I hear there's an underground black market in the southern hills," Kelleth chimed in. "Somebody there might know something."

"Both good ideas," Sa'Sani said. "I shall leave the matter in your obviously capable hands."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"So, my hawk, you are content, yes?" Vadin'ya said. "You have given me this beautiful gem, I have given you lots of gold, and you have bought from me two belts of strength. Everyone has gained."

"Yes, very satisfactory," Kelleth agreed. He buckled a giant strength belt around his waist. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

"Indeed so," Vadin'ya said. "Chantry, my friend, will you be able to have dinner with me tomorrow night, or will the hawk once more carry you off into the jungle?"

"I'm not planning on rushing off," Kelleth said. "I want to get in some practice fighting with two scimitars, and get used to this belt, before we go off into the jungle again. Aysgarth has some enchanting to perform, and Chantry has to do some… what do you call it?"

"Alchemical analysis," Chantry said. "I'd like to use your laboratory, if I may, Vadin'ya."

"Of course, my friend," Vadin'ya agreed. "You are, then, free for dinner tomorrow?"

"I am," Chantry said. "I'm sure the boys will be able to find something to keep themselves occupied."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"You were beautiful, were you not?" Vadin'ya said. "It is still there for those who have eyes to see. The curve of your hips, the swell of your breasts, the grace of your walk, and the light that still shines in your eyes."

"You didn't mention the pearly white teeth," Chantry said. She had consumed a bottle and a half of wine but she wasn't drunk; her extreme resistance to poison extended to alcohol and she was only slightly mellow. "I was the prettiest girl of my generation, they said." Her fists clenched tightly so that her knuckles showed white. "Bards used to smash their lutes in frustration at not being able to compose songs fit… to… to… describe… m-m-my…" She choked up.

"My poor swallow," Vadin'ya said. "Is there no cure?"

Chantry took a deep breath, unclenched her fists, and managed to regain some measure of control. "No," she said. "The cure came too late. The damage had already been done and it goes too deep. Nothing works."

"Such a shame," Vadin'ya said, "and also a shame that our brave falcon can see only the surface."

"Thank the gods," Chantry said. "It's only him being oblivious that keeps me sane. If he knew how I felt about him the humiliation would break me." She sighed deeply. "If only I could stop loving him."

"One cannot control one's heart," Vadin'ya said.

"I know," Chantry agreed. "I've tried to make myself see sense. I'm not stupid. I know he'll never return my feelings. It hasn't worked. You know, back when I was a priestess of Sûne, the High Priestess told me that people tend to fall for someone about the same level of attractiveness as themselves. Probably the only wise words that ever came out of her mouth - actually, probably the only thing that ever came out of her mouth that wasn't about so long and attached to a man – but anyway, things usually work out more or less okay that way. The trouble is that my heart doesn't seem to understand that I'm not what I was. Kelleth's a good-looking man. Six foot two, kind of rugged, brave and honest and all that crap, he'd have been an ideal match for me… before. Now? My perfect match would be something more like a well-spoken ogre."

"If you refer to Artiuk, little magpie, you cannot have him," Vadin'ya said. "He is mine."

"Oh!" Chantry put her hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking of him at all. He's much better looking than an ogre. I didn't mean… I wouldn't…"

"I jest, little bird," Vadin'ya said. "Perhaps, though, you could find someone not unlike Artiuk."

"Maybe," Chantry said. "It would be… logical. Shame the world doesn't work that way." She took a long drink, draining her glass, and accepted a refill. "Thanks. Anyway, I think we've talked about me enough. I'm probably just boring and depressing you. Let's talk about you. I'd say, from your coloring, that the human side of your ancestry is from somewhere quite a way north of here. How did you come to be running a shop in Samargol?"

"I have not yet drunk enough to tell that story," Vadin'ya said. "Later, perhaps, or another time. Let us talk, first, of other things. Perhaps, my magpie, you can tell me the facts about something on which I have been pondering. Is Volothamp Geddarm fucking Sa'Sani?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

There was a spring in Chantry's step as the group departed from Samargol. The sun was shining – as it always did here, unless there was one of the heavy tropical downpours that could deliver an inch of rain in an hour – birds were singing, and she was wearing a strength belt; of lesser power than the giant strength belt that Kelleth now wore but still enough to make her plate armor seem light and relatively comfortable. The evening spent with Vadin'ya had been enjoyable, barring the period in which Chantry had lapsed into self-pity, and she was feeling happier than she'd been in quite a while. Once clear of the city gates she broke into a suitably cheerful song.

"_Wonderful day, for going my way_

_Knock on my door, and even the score_

_With your eyes_

_Lovely to see you again my friend_

_Walk along with me to the next bend…_"

"Take it you had a good time last night, then?" Thorpe enquired. The men had been late to rise and Chantry had seen little of them before they had assembled to march into the wilderness.

"Yes, it was fun," Chantry replied. "What about you? Enjoy your drinking session?"

"Bloody brilliant," the halfling replied, grinning widely. "We all got laid."

Chantry missed a step and almost stumbled. "What?"

"Well, not all of us," Thorpe amended his claim. "Aysgarth spent the night with his books."

"The only woman in Samarach I find attractive is Vadin'ya," the wizard said, "and she was, of course, otherwise engaged. Also she appears to be in a relationship with her barbarian bodyguard, he seems rather possessive, and I have no wish to be smitten by his fiery axe."

"I got my leg over with Lastri," Thorpe continued. "Gods, that woman can knock the drink back, but she shags like a mink with her tail on fire."

Chantry said nothing. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her vision blurred.

"Umoja got his end away with Kwesi," Thorpe went on, "and Kelleth shagged Inshula."

"Excuse me," Chantry managed to say. "I'm not feeling well. A hangover." She stumbled away from the road, made it behind some bushes, snatched off her helm and was violently sick.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The light inside the underground market was dim, tailored to the requirements of the non-humans who ran the stalls and made up the majority of the clientele, but it was adequate. Chantry's eyebrows rose as she recognized the race of the beings behind most of the stalls; illithids, the Mind Flayers, creatures she had never expected to encounter except perhaps as opponents in deadly combat. She had been feeling numb since Thorpe's revelation, disassociated from everything around her, her enthusiasm crushed and just going through the motions of the day's tasks. Now her curiosity flickered into life once more.

She cast her eyes around the cavern. It was not exactly thronged with customers; only a handful of Batiri, a couple of apparent humans, and a single drow female accompanied by an orcish bodyguard. Kelleth spoke to the drow and was dismissed with a curt "Leave me alone, rivvil." Chantry smiled, and nodded to the drow; her gesture was ignored.

For a black market operated by powerful creatures from the Underdark the goods on offer were distinctly disappointing. A duergar ran a fairly standard weapons and armor shop, and one of the mind flayers had a basic supply of potions and minor magic items, but there was nothing available that couldn't be obtained from Mencar in Samarach; Vadin'ya's stock was far more extensive and exotic.

"We know you not," one of the illithids responded, when Aysgarth raised the matter. "Most of our goods are reserved for our select clientele."

"Oh? How do we get on the select list?" asked Thorpe.

"Either get a recommendation from someone already on the list," the illithid replied, "or perform a service for us. We seek knowledge of magical lore…"

Chantry tuned out the mind flayer's telepathic communication as it went on to give the details of some, no doubt tedious, quest to retrieve tomes of magical research from a mage's tower. Kelleth could make the decision about if they were to get involved, and Aysgarth could handle the details; Chantry couldn't be bothered. She was more interested in an illithid who appeared to be working at some sort of menial shelf-stacking task. This was completely out of character. The mind flayers had a superiority complex that made the drow seem humble by comparison; manual labor was beneath them and they had thralls to do everything like that.

Chantry approached the illithid. "Greetings," she said to him, or her, or it. Determining the gender of the squid-faced monstrosities, assuming they had gender, was completely beyond her. "Do you have anything for sale?"

"Hnnngggg," the monster moaned, its transmitted thoughts a formless blur. "Uuuuhhhh."

"Are you injured, or ill?" Chantry asked. "If you are, maybe I could cure you – in exchange for getting on to the select clients list."

"Uuuunnnhhh," the illithid moaned. It showed no sign of having understood.

"Forgive my friend," the one who had been briefing Aysgarth said. "He is somewhat… damaged."

"Did you catch what I said about curing him?" Chantry asked.

"I did. It is no use. He cannot be cured."

"What happened to him?"

"He was a seer, a prophet," the mind flayer explained. "He sought knowledge, as do we all, but went too far. It is said that he touched the mind of a god, and what he saw therein left him as you see him now."

"Oh? Which god?" Chantry asked.

"Some claim that it was Cyric, Prince of Lies," said the illithid, "but no-one knows for certain."

"I suppose that would make sense," Chantry said. "Does anyone know what he saw?"

"He has been incapable of communicating ever since," the illithid said. "It remains unknown."

"And there isn't any way of helping him?"

"None. We are masters of the mind but he does not respond to any treatment. He is useful only as a servant now, nothing more."

Chantry squinted at the mad illithid's apparently pupil-less eyes. "I suppose there's some kind of lesson there about not pushing your luck. What's the point in reading a god's mind if you can't understand what you see and it drives you crazy?"

"Midnight falls, Death itself mourns," the creature replied.

"That almost made sense," Chantry said. "Midnight was Mystra's human name and she was the lover of Kelemvor before he took over as the God of Death."

"It did," agreed the illithid stall-holder. "The first comprehensible thing he has said in months. Except that I know not what he means. Oin Chakalop, what are you saying?"

"Madness, chaos, the end of the Weave," the insane mind flayer went on.

"The end of the Weave?" The mention of the fundamental force that powered all wizardry had grabbed Aysgarth's attention. "When will this happen?"

"Darkness splinters," was the reply. "Shadows crack, lies stay mine, no song for me, an implicit dictator parades the toe underneath the gold flower, each in syndrome shelves a marked powdddderrr, mmmmrrgghhh, hnnnngghh…"

"What's so interesting about that meaningless babble?" Kelleth asked.

"It is not meaningless, my friend," Aysgarth said. "If I interpret it correctly the mind-flayer revealed that Cyric plots to slay Mystra. That would have terrible consequences for the world. Possibly the end of arcane magic."

"It's worse than that," Chantry added. "Did you hear that bit about 'Darkness splinters, shadows crack'? I'd read that as meaning that Cyric is going to do something to the Shadow Weave too. If the Weave and the Shadow Weave are both destroyed…"

"Then civilization as we know it will collapse," Aysgarth finished for her. "We'll fall back to the Stone Age and be at the mercy of the monsters. The end of the world."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Disclaimer: 'Storm of Zehir' is the property of Atari, Obsidian Entertainment, and Wizards of the Coast Inc. Song lyrics quoted are from 'Lost Patrol' by Big Country and 'Lovely To See You' by The Moody Blues. Lyrics used without permission.


	5. We're Not In Kansas

**Chapter Five: We're not in Kansas**

_Well, Dog! I know we're not in Kansas  
The sky's all coloured wrong  
I know we're not in Kansas  
The nights are all too long  
I sure don't understand this  
That's what you're howling for  
I know we're not in Kansas  
Kansas any more_

(Big Country, _We're Not In Kansas_)

It wasn't a village, just a few ramshackle lean-tos crudely put together with branches and skins, and the miserable handful of inhabitants seemed to be waiting for death.

"The snake filth have cursed us," a man moaned. He swayed on his feet, his limbs were stick-thin and swollen at the joints, and his abdomen was swollen. Ulcers around his nose and mouth disfigured his face. "Are you in league with them, foreigners?"

Chantry studied the man, and his fellows, and quickly reached a diagnosis. "It's not a curse, you ignorant savage," she told him. "It's a disease spread by bloodsucking flies. Don't you have a healer or a priest in your village?"

"The priest's spells had no effect," the villager replied. "He declared that it was a curse and cast us out lest our presence spread our contamination to the others."

Chantry rolled her eyes. "The total moron. I read up on the local diseases on the voyage here. My texts went to the bottom with the ship but I can remember them well enough. This disease suppresses the immune system. You have to catch it early, when the ulcers are just breaking through and before the spleen starts to enlarge, otherwise you have to cast two cures in succession. Well, priests of other gods do, anyway. I could do it in one."

"Then you can… cure us?" There was incredulity and hope in the villager's voice.

"No problem," Chantry said. "I made up a batch of potions, in advance, just in case any of our party contracted the disease. Not quite enough for all of you but I have a couple of Cure Disease spells prepared. If Umoja also has a couple…"

"I do indeed, Chantry," Umoja confirmed.

"…Then we can fix you all up in a matter of minutes."

"And what do you want in return, foreign priestess?" A middle-aged woman glared at Chantry with suspicion written all over her face. "We cannot afford to pay you."

The poverty of the disease-stricken natives was blatantly obvious. No doubt they had been evicted from their village with little more than the clothes they wore. Chantry would liked to hold out for payment but she couldn't imagine that they had enough even to cover the potions' ingredients – more than three hundred gold coins – and Kelleth would be sure to object if she demanded compensation. Oh, well, it wasn't like she was short of money. The loot from their victories, and the bounties paid on creatures they had slain, had brought in coins by the barrel-load.

"Payment is not required," Chantry said. "I ask only that you say a prayer of thanks to my goddess, Talona."

"Talona?" The spokesman recoiled. "Then you seek to poison us. Begone, witch!"

"Suit yourself," Chantry said, her eyebrows rising unseen behind her full-face helm.

"Don't be bloody stupid, you daft wazzock," Thorpe put in. "You're dying anyway, right? Just how is she going to make it worse?"

The spokesman frowned. "I… suppose that is true," he said. "Very well. We shall take your curatives."

"Big of you," Chantry grunted, under her breath, and she reached into her pack for the potion vials. "We can reduce the scarring from the ulcers with Cure Light Wounds spells," she advised Umoja, as she handed them out, "but it has to be done quickly, while the potions are still working."

"I understand," Umoja said. He tilted his head slightly to one side, looked at Chantry for a moment, and then averted his gaze. Chantry guessed what he was thinking but said nothing.

In the charnel house that Neverwinter had become, during the Wailing Death plague, there had been no chance to think of anything other than life or death. High Priestess Sumia, concentrating on Cure Disease, had run out of Cure Wounds and Regenerate spells long before she reached Chantry… She shuddered, tried to put the memories out of her mind, and set to work in silence except for the words of the spells.

"You wouldn't have seen this character around, would you?" Thorpe asked the village spokesman, after the cured man had paused from his spiel of thanks. The halfling held up a sketch of Luaire. "Skinny bloke, wizard, stammers when he talks."

The Samarachan peered at the picture. "I think so," he said. "The man I saw did not speak but the face looks similar and he wore, indeed, the robes of a wizard." He showed the drawing to his fellows and was met with general agreement.

"Where, and when?" Kelleth asked.

"Two days ago," the spokesman said, "passing by on the road. We called out for help, for it was only hours after Gyandoh was dragged off into the jungle by a band of batiri, and perhaps not too late for a wizard and his two tall warriors to have rescued her, but he ignored us and passed on by."

"In that case," Chantry said, "you'll probably be pleased to hear that we're going to kill the bastard."

"Two tall warriors?" Kelleth narrowed his eyes. "That explains how he is travelling through the jungle without problems. He has someone to guard him while he rests to regain spells. They'll need to be neutralized before we can take Luaire out."

"My present spell selection will serve," Aysgarth said. "I have sufficient wards to shield us while we slay the warriors."

"Good." Kelleth turned back to the Samarachan spokesman. "We'll have a look for your missing comrade, although I hold out little hope for her survival after two days, and then pursue our foe. Which way did he go?"

"South," said the man, "toward Nimbre and Rassatan."

"If he goes to Rassatan Sa Sani's agents will spot him," Kelleth said. "I doubt if that was his destination. Nimbre? That's a mere village, if I recall correctly."

"A dozen or so houses and some pig farms," Thorpe agreed.

"What would he be doing there?" Kelleth wondered.

"It is said that a Loremaster resides in Nimbre," the Samarachan suggested. "A wise man who studies the stars and reads portents in the heavens. It would be no strange thing for a wizard to travel there to consult with him."

"A Loremaster," Aysgarth mused. "If he is legitimate it would be interesting to discuss with him events such as the explosion that destroyed one of the Tears of Selûne. If he is involved with Luaire, an accomplice in the wizard's schemes, whatever they might be…"

Chantry finished for him. "Then we kill him too."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The big cat sat in the middle of the forest path, watching them approach, apparently totally unconcerned. There was no fear evident in the gaze of its yellow eyes.

"That is not normal behavior for a leopard," Umoja remarked. "I sense that there is something unusual about this beast. Enchanted, perhaps." He couched his spear. "What do you think, Yushai?"

The dinosaur chittered. Umoja's eyebrows rose and he lowered his spear-point. "He says the leopard is his brother," Umoja translated.

"Considering that he hatched out of an egg, and the leopard didn't," Chantry said, "I take it he's chittering metaphorically."

"He is," Kelleth said. He smiled broadly. "It would seem I have found favor in the eyes of my goddess. She has sent me my animal companion."

"Oh? Aren't you supposed to raise your companion from a cub?" Chantry asked.

"That would hardly be feasible," Kelleth pointed out. "Taking a couple of years out from adventuring to raise a cub to maturity would rather hinder a ranger's career." He walked up to the animal, extended a hand, and scratched under its chin. "Hello, you magnificent creature," he greeted it. "Now, what shall I call you?"

"Spot," suggested Chantry.

"In my language a leopard is called 'ingwe'," Umoja said, "or in the language of Samarach it would be called 'namir'."

"Hmm." Kelleth's brow furrowed as he considered. "No, I don't think I'll call him 'leopard'," he decided. "After all, you wouldn't call a child 'human'."

"Call him… Snookums," said Thorpe. He returned an arrow, which he had nocked at first sight of the leopard, to its quiver. "Or Tiddles. Those are good names for cats, right?"

"In case you haven't noticed," Kelleth pointed out, "he's a little bigger than a house cat. I'd estimate that he weighs at least a hundred and sixty pounds."

Thorpe shrugged. "Size doesn't matter, they say."

The leopard opened his mouth, revealing two-inch long fangs, and uttered a sound like a rasping yowl.

"Ah," said Kelleth, "that settles it. He says his name is Silent Stalker."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

They heard the clink of metal on metal as they approached the village. At first they assumed it was a blacksmith working at his forge but, on emerging into the village centre, they saw that it was something more sinister.

A patrol of Samarachan guards, eight soldiers plus a wizard, a priest, and an officer in gilded armor, occupied the village square. It seemed that they had rounded up most of the villagers. A cluster of peasants huddled in the square, ringed by guards, and the blacksmith was engaged in hammering pins into shackles clamped around the captives' ankles. Two guardsmen with spears stood over him and supervised his work.

"I see the benevolent government of Samarach is treating its citizens with its usual care and consideration," Chantry remarked.

"Indeed so," Kelleth said. "Try not to antagonize them too much, Chantry, okay? Killing them would get us into far too much trouble."

"I suppose so," Chantry said. "Okay, I'll behave myself." She peered at the officer. "Isn't that the twat who was going to throw us in jail when we first arrived in Samargol?"

"It is," Kelleth agreed.

"Captain Dajos, if I remember correctly," Aysgarth put in.

"That sounds right," Kelleth said. "Let me do the talking." He strode up to the gathering, at the head of the party, with Silent Stalker padding at his heels.

"Move along, foreigners," the captain said. "There is nothing here to interest you."

"Very well, Captain Dajos," Kelleth said. "We don't want to interfere with your internal affairs. Late with their taxes, were they?"

"Not that it concerns you," Dajos replied, "but we received reports that these villagers have been collaborating with the snake folk."

"What's your proof?" Chantry asked, ignoring the glare that Kelleth shot at her.

"Proof? I have no need of proof," Dajos said. "I received my orders and I am carrying them out. They will be taken to Samargol and their degree of guilt will be established there by the authorities."

"The snake folk are into sausages, are they, then?" Thorpe commented. "Can't see what else they'd get out of this bunch of pig farmers."

"Bacon," said Chantry. "Everybody likes bacon." Silent Stalker licked his lips and Yushai chirruped.

"I presume you have already arrested the Loremaster," Aysgarth said. "We heard he had tomes of knowledge about the stars and the heavens. If you've confiscated them we might be interested in purchasing them."

"Arrested the Loremaster? Certainly not," Dajos replied. "He's a respected citizen in good standing. If you have business with him then go ahead." He pointed at a house, larger and more solidly constructed than the rest of the village dwellings, just off the square. "Just don't interfere with our processing of the accused."

"Thank you, Captain," Aysgarth said, and headed in the direction indicated.

"I thought I was going to do the talking," Kelleth complained, as they walked off.

"Yes, you did," Chantry said. Thorpe sniggered.

"I thought it best to speak up," said Aysgarth. "Matters of lore and wizardry are, after all, my areas of expertise." He pursed his lips. "If anyone in this village has indeed been dealing with the yuan-ti, which I doubt, the Loremaster is a far more likely candidate than the simple farmers."

"Agreed," Chantry said, "which could mean that Luaire is also involved with the snakes. Then again it might just be the Samarachans being their usual paranoid selves."

"Somebody saw Luaire sneaking around to visit him," Thorpe deduced, "and jumped to the conclusion that he was one of the yuan-ti."

"That sounds logical," Aysgarth agreed.

"We assume he can't be trusted until we have proof to the contrary," Kelleth declared. They reached the Loremaster's door. "This time, Aysgarth, you can do the talking."

"Of course." Aysgarth knocked and, almost immediately, the door was thrown open.

"Well? What do you want?" The eyebrows of the man in the doorway shot up when he saw his visitors. Presumably he had expected the knock to be from one of the soldiers. The eyebrows descended into a frown as he stared at them. "Foreign travelers," he said. "A rare sight in Samarach." His bald head, beard, and plain grey robes fitted the stereotype of one who was both an academic and an ascetic.

"Indeed so," Aysgarth agreed. "I take it that you are he who is known as the Loremaster? We seek to avail ourselves of your knowledge and wisdom."

"Oh?" The Loremaster looked Aysgarth up and down. "In what way?"

"A few nights ago we observed a strange event in the sky," Aysgarth explained. "I believe that we saw one of the Tears of Selûne explode. I seek to discover what may have caused this strange, perhaps unprecedented, event and what it may presage."

"Hmmph. Something to do with Shar's war against Selûne, no doubt," the Loremaster said. "Oh, well, I suppose you'd better come in."

"Thank you." Aysgarth led the band into the house.

"I had meant only you, and perhaps your companions, not an entire traveling menagerie," the Loremaster complained, turning a cold gaze upon Silent Stalker and Yushai.

"We could hardly leave our animal companions out there," Kelleth said, "where they might come into conflict with the soldiers. I'm afraid I don't trust the locals not to provoke them."

"Perhaps you're right," the Loremaster conceded. He led the party into the house's main room, a large study with walls lined from corner to corner with bookcases, and then faced Aysgarth. "Well, young man, you might as well take a seat. Have a glass of wine, perhaps, and tell me of this… cosmic event."

"If you don't mind, there's a question I'd like to ask you first," Aysgarth said. "Have you seen a wizard named Luaire recently?"

The Loremaster's frown deepened. "Luaire? I don't think I know that name."

"Wrong answer," Chantry accused. "I cast Detect Lie before we came in," she claimed, mendaciously, "and you show up as lying through your teeth."

The Loremaster's lips curled back in a snarl. His veneer of calm wisdom dissipated in an instant. "Very clever, human," he said, "but all your cleverness has gained you is your death. Jaffa, to me!"

Kelleth drew his scimitars as the Loremaster was making his 'villain unmasked' speech. He struck out with the right-hand blade, bringing it down in a cut aimed at the shoulder area, but the Loremaster swayed aside from the blow and delivered an uppercut to Kelleth's chin. Kelleth rocked under the impact but his strength, boosted by the Giant Strength belt he wore, enabled him to stay on his feet and strike back. Again the Loremaster dodged. He hit Kelleth with a right-left combination and then an elbow strike that pulped Kelleth's lips.

Aysgarth cast Improved Mage Armor on himself, Umoja used Magic Fang to enhance Yushai, and Chantry cast Mass Aid on everyone. Thorpe drew his short-sword but, instead of attacking the Loremaster, followed the two animal companions in rushing toward one of the room's internal doors.

The Loremaster seized Kelleth's arm, applied a lock, and forced the ranger down and around so that he was unable to strike with his other scimitar. Aysgarth fired off a Magic Missile but achieved nothing except to bring a grunt of pain from the Loremaster's lips. Chantry stepped forward, mace raised, but was forced to step back when the man lashed out at her with a high kick. Instead she cast another spell. Bull's Strength, on Kelleth, further augmenting his already enhanced strength.

The inner door flew open and two mail-clad warriors rushed into the room.

Or tried to. One of them ran straight into Yushai. The dinosaur's claws fastened on the man's shoulders. Yushai's ferociously-fanged maw opened wide and then closed on the warrior's face, ripping away flesh, and splattering the polished teak floor with copious amounts of blood. The man screamed and raised a sword to strike back. Yushai snapped his jaws again, caught the wrist of the raised arm before the blow could be delivered, and mangled the hand into uselessness. He kicked at the warrior's stomach with a viciously-clawed hind foot, failed to penetrate the chain mail, and then released the trapped arm from his jaws and went for a killing lunge at the neck.

The other man was bowled over by the impact of a charging leopard. The fighter held a bulbous-ended staff, virtually useless at such close quarters, but he used it to fend off Silent Stalker's attempts to fasten his fangs into the man's throat. The heavy chain-mail protected the human's abdomen from the disemboweling strokes of the leopard's hind claws. The two rolled on the floor, neither doing any damage to the other, but the warrior was totally neutralized as far as intervening in the other fights was concerned.

Thorpe slipped past Yushai and his victim to the combat on the floor. He watched for an opening, nimbly dodging when their rolls threatened to knock him over, and then plunged his sword home into the human's eye socket.

Kelleth, his already considerable strength now boosted to an inhuman degree, began to power his way out of the arm-lock and straighten up. The Loremaster twisted, stuck out his leg, and threw Kelleth to the ground. Aysgarth fired off a Ray of Frost and Umoja summoned down a lightning strike. Neither had any visible effect but the Loremaster, an expression of panic now showing on his face, dipped a hand into his belt pouch and pulled out an oddly-shaped metal device.

Chantry summoned an undead minion. A hideous ghoul materialized at her side. Before the undead minion could enter the fray the Loremaster did something to his device, causing it to rise up in his hand into the form of a striking snake, and then used it to fire a beam of energy. The blast struck Chantry squarely in the chest, her eyes rolled up, and she toppled to the floor. The ghoul vanished.

A split second later the point of Kelleth's scimitar burst out through the front of the Loremaster's chest. He opened his mouth to speak, probably a curse, but all that came forth was a spray of blood. Kelleth withdrew his blade and the Loremaster fell to his knees.

"Damn," Kelleth exclaimed, as the defeated foe slumped forward and lay still, face down, on the floor. "I had hoped to take him alive. I hope there's some documentary evidence that he's up to no good or we could be facing a murder charge." He touched his lips with his fingers and winced. "I could use a Cure Minor Wounds, Chantry, if you've a moment." It was only then that he realized she was down and not moving. "Chantry? Are you alright?"

Umoja bent over the prone form. "She is merely unconscious," he declared. "I will bring her round in but a moment."

"I'll check the place out for loot," Thorpe said, coming back into the room, "but you two had better look to your pets before they eat the dead blokes."

"We must also, as Kelleth said, search for evidence," Aysgarth said.

"Do that, both of you," Kelleth said. "Silent Stalker! Put that warrior down. Drop him! Good boy."

"Just call him 'Stalker'," Thorpe said. "His first name is silent. Get it?"

"I'll treat that pun with the contempt it deserves," said Kelleth. "Search the bodies. Or what's left of them."

"Uuugh," Chantry moaned, and she sat up. "What hit me?"

"This," Aysgarth said. He retrieved the weapon from the floor and held it up. "A strange device. I have seen nothing like it before. A creation of the yuan-ti, perhaps? It is certainly patterned after the form of a serpent."

"I've seen something like it before," Chantry said, "but I can't place it. It'll come to me." She clambered to her feet, with some assistance from Umoja, and took off her helm. "We won, I take it? Looting time?"

"And evidence," Kelleth said again. "With a Samarachan patrol outside we really don't want to walk out of here, covered in blood, unless we can find something to prove that the people we killed are the bad guys."

"Well, the Loremaster must be a yuan-ti," Aysgarth said, "or he would not have called Chantry 'human'."

"There are other things he could be, like a werewolf," said Thorpe, "but you're probably right." He knelt by the Loremaster's dead body and lifted its head to reveal the face. "His nose has shrunk," he announced. "Ooh, scales." He pulled back the corpse's lips to expose the teeth. "And fangs," he added. "He must have changed form when he died. Definitely a yuan-ti. We're in the clear." He cleaned the blade of his sword on the Loremaster's robes and stood up.

"That's a good start," Kelleth said, "but it would be useful to find something on paper. And something that might lead us to Luaire."

"He is no doubt also one of the snake folk," said Umoja.

"That won't be good for Sa'Sani," Chantry said. "He's worked for her for years, apparently loyally until recently, and she'll be damned by association."

"Dead yuan-ti tell no tales," Thorpe said. "Let's see what else we can find." He removed a ring from the corpse's index finger, tossed it to Aysgarth, and then emptied out the Loremaster's belt pouch. "Nothing but a scroll," he said, passing the rolled paper over to the wizard, "but, hang on, what's this?"

He had found a small pocket built into the belt. Inside it was a small glass vial. He held it up to the light and peered at it.

"Let me see that," Chantry said. She took the vial from the halfling and examined it closely. "I'd need to run some tests to be sure," she said, "but I strongly suspect that this is Chokemist poison. The same stuff that killed the gnome at the logging camp."

"Hmm," said Aysgarth. "Accepting the offered glass of wine might have been a very bad idea." He unrolled the scroll and looked at it. "Ah. This isn't a spell scroll. It's a map of this village with annotations."

"Annotations saying?" Kelleth prompted.

"I can't read the language," Aysgarth admitted. "Umoja, can you read it?"

The druid took the map. "It says, 'Village to be emptied by 15 Mirtul'," he read out, "and also 'suitable landing site'. I know not what it can mean by 'landing site'. This village is nowhere near the river and the spot marked is on open grassland. Griffon riders, or trained wyverns, perhaps?"

"I think that confirms where the accusation against the villagers came from," Kelleth said.

"It was pretty obvious anyway, but yes, that proves it," said Chantry. "We'd better search the rest of the place before we take this to the guards."

They made a cursory search of the house. The bookshelves were too well stocked to be given a thorough examination, without spending far too long at the task, but they found a few magical scrolls on one of the shelves. A locked chest, in one of the side rooms, held only potions, a few gems, and a Drum of Haunting useful only to bards.

The bodies of the dead produced a more interesting haul. One of the two warriors, the one killed by Yushai, bore a short-sword with a minor enchantment; the other had been carrying a bulbous-ended metal staff of unusual design.

"I've seen something like this before, too," Chantry said. She bent and examined the foreheads of the two dead men, wiping away the blood to reveal the skin, and her eyebrows climbed. "See these tattoos? Teal'c had a tattoo not dissimilar, although his was golden, and he bore a staff like this. A weapon that fired bolts of energy, according to my High Priestess, more powerful than a Wand of Fire and with unlimited charges."

"Lucky your pets didn't give him a chance to use it," Thorpe commented.

"Yushai is no mere 'pet'," Umoja protested.

"Tea-yak?" Kelleth asked, stumbling over the pronunciation. "Who's he?"

"A traveler from another world," Aysgarth explained, "who helped to save Neverwinter when it was besieged by the Luskans three years ago."

"Oh, one of that group," Kelleth said. "But that would make him one of the good guys, surely?"

"I met him twice," Chantry said. "Well, I was in the Halls of Justice when his party passed through, that is, I didn't actually speak to him. High Priestess Sumia was with them when they fought Morag and the Old Ones, though, and I've listened to her recount the tale. Colonel O'Neill and his companions, amongst whom was Teal'c, were indeed good guys."

"So what are people from his world doing working with the yuan-ti?" Kelleth wondered.

"It's no use asking me," Chantry said. "I don't know any more than you do. The people who could give you an answer are all two and a half thousand miles north of this shithole."

"It may become clearer as we continue our investigations," said Aysgarth, "and we may learn why your goddess has sent you here."

"And why Ubtao has sent me," Umoja added.

"Okay, I think we've gathered about as much loot and information as we're going to get," Kelleth said. "We'd better take this map, and the corpse, to the guards before they march the villagers off to the dungeons." He took hold of the Loremaster's body under the arms and dragged it across the floor and out of the house.

By now the villagers were all in shackles. The blacksmith, his task completed, was being bound at the wrists by a pair of guardsmen. A soldier saw Kelleth's party emerging into the open, and their grisly burden, and gave a shout and pointed with his spear.

"Captain Dajos," Kelleth called. "Release your prisoners. I have found the real yuan-ti."

Dajos, flanked by a couple of guardsmen and the patrol's cleric, hastened over. "What is this? You have slain Hadric the Loremaster!"

"One point for observation," Chantry commented. "Now, for the bonus point, take a close look at the bloke's face and identify his species."

Dajos glared at her but followed her suggestion. "Yes," he conceded, "he is indeed yuan-ti. How did you know?"

"A yuan-ti spy wouldn't be living as a miserable sod of a peasant," Thorpe pointed out. "Had to be this Loremaster pillock. Bloody obvious."

"I challenged him and, when he denied it, I claimed to know he was lying," Chantry said. "He fell for my trick and tried to kill us to shut our mouths."

"Hmmph. You resorted to lies and violence, you mean," Dajos said. "Typical of you northern foreigners. Still, it has achieved a desirable end, and I shall take no action against you. I shall free the villagers and take the body of this snake filth to Samargol."

"He had two men-at-arms guarding him," Kelleth said. "Their bodies still lie inside."

"That does not surprise me," Dajos said. "Death walks with you, foreigner. At least it has struck only deserving targets – thus far. Go now. Leave this village."

"That does not surprise me," Chantry said.

Kelleth, guessing that she intended to continue with something deliberately provocative, spoke up hurriedly. "Before we go there is something that we must do. We need to purchase pork, perhaps even a live piglet, from the villagers."

"To feed your animals? Very well. You may stay long enough to transact that business, once the peasants have been unchained, but that is all. After that you must depart."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Where to now, boss?" Thorpe asked, once Nimbre lay behind them.

"We should seek out the source of the Chokemist poison," Chantry suggested. "Vadin'ya believes Luaire will return there, perhaps even be based there, and she could well be right."

Kelleth shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "I wouldn't be surprised if Captain Dajos has us followed, either physically or by scrying, and I don't think we should lead the Samarachan authorities to Luaire. Not if our deduction that he's also a yuan-ti is correct, anyway."

"I suppose not," Chantry conceded. "So, where do we go instead?"

"We're not too far from that wizards' tower that the mind flayers want us to investigate," Kelleth said. "I'm not wild about working for such creatures but they don't seem to be doing too much harm at the moment. Getting onto their 'select clients list' could be useful."

"And there could be useful items in the tower itself," Aysgarth said. He shook the staff weapon that he carried in place of his usual quarterstaff. "What should we do with this? It's far too unwieldy to carry around for long unless it's really effective as a weapon."

"We've already seen that it's useless at close quarters," Kelleth said, "but perhaps it could be useful at long range. Will you be able to work out how to activate it?"

"Given time, and perhaps the use of a Potion of Lore, undoubtedly," Aysgarth said.

"Then we shall try it out once we're in the jungle and screened from prying eyes," Kelleth decreed. "The small weapon too."

"The little one is called a 'zat'," Chantry informed them. "I remember now. It can render unconscious and also it can kill."

"It could be useful, I suppose," Kelleth said, "and it's much easier to carry."

"Lord Nasher forbade the people of Earth to sell their weapons in Neverwinter," Chantry mused.

"Do you think they sought a market here, far from Lord Nasher's authority, to get past that prohibition?" Kelleth asked.

"I doubt it," Chantry replied. "Their own laws prohibit them from selling such things, even if Nasher had permitted it, and they offer only harmless goods such as the tinted eyeglasses that protect against the glare of the sun – my own pair of which, alas, was lost in our shipwreck. When their weapons were stolen by the Luskans they strove mightily to recover them and, indeed, to slay all those involved. No, I cannot believe they would willingly part with their weapons to agents of the yuan-ti. It remains a mystery."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Powerful, yes," Kelleth judged, bringing the staff weapon down after firing the last in a series of test shots, "but woefully inaccurate. I can loose arrows faster, too. I deem it too clumsy to be effective in combat except, perhaps, used in massed ranks."

"Or mounted on a castle wall, or perhaps a wagon," Aysgarth suggested.

"Tell you what," said Thorpe, "the Lantanese gnomes would love this thing. We could flog it to them for a small fortune."

Kelleth shuddered. "I think that letting those mad tinkerers get hold of something like this would be an exceedingly bad idea," he said. "Selling it through Mendar or Vadin Ya probably wouldn't be advisable either. No. It's too clumsy to be useful, too big to fit in our Lesser Magic Bag, and conspicuous enough to draw unwanted attention. We'll keep the little 'zat' but, as for this staff weapon, I say that we should dispose of it in some deep and remote swamp."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The staff weapon sank out of sight below the scum of green algae that covered the surface of the muddy water. A bubble of swamp gas rose, burst, and gave off a smell like rotting eggs.

"We'll kick ourselves if a load more of those things turn up and start selling at ten thousand gold apiece," Thorpe remarked.

"I sincerely hope that won't happen," Kelleth said. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Chantry. "This would also be a good place to get rid of that poison. Hand it over."

Chantry shrugged and took out the vial from her pouch. "Okay," she said. "It's not stable, it deteriorates even in a sealed container, and I've no immediate use for it."

"Oh? So you weren't planning on pouring it into Samargol's water supply, then?" Kelleth challenged.

"Of course not," Chantry replied. "Vadin'ya drinks that water and she's a friend. Anyway, diluted down that much it would be pretty harmless. Samargol's a big city." She tilted her head to one side and, under the concealing helm, pursed her lips. "It would be a different story in the well of a little village. I wonder if that's what Luaire expected the Loremaster to do with it?"

"Quite possibly," Aysgarth agreed. "Getting the Samarach authorities to remove the villagers was a more… elegant scheme but poisoning might well have been the original plan. It would explain why he had a ring giving resistance to poison. The yuan-ti are fairly poison-resistant anyway, I believe, and with the additional protection he could have drank the water with impunity."

"With it on I'm totally immune to poison, instead of just mostly so," Chantry said. "I'll have to work out how to poison-proof the rest of you before we go to the source of the Chokemist. It's nasty stuff. Actually, thinking about it, this sample could be very useful on that score. I'd better hang onto it for a while."

"Very well, Chantry, do that," Kelleth said. "For now, though, we have a wizards' tower to loot. A little old school adventuring for a change."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Chantry sipped water from a flask, swilled it around her mouth, and spat a reddish stream out onto the stone floor. "I hate the taste of blood," she said, "especially when it's mine."

"It was a tough fight, indeed," Kelleth remarked, "but we prevailed."

"And we picked up some decent loot," Thorpe added, rubbing his hands together, "including a Ring of Djinni Summoning. Should come in useful."

"A psychotic djinni who slew his last masters," Aysgarth pointed out. "I would be wary of using it. Shamal would, undoubtedly, seize any possible opportunity to slay us also. If he turned against us when we were battling another foe it would be… bad."

"So we sell it to the Mind Flayers," Thorpe suggested. "Would any of us give a toss if the djinni turned on them?"

"Their mental powers would make that unlikely," Aysgarth said, "but I would certainly be in favor of selling the ring rather than using it ourselves."

"We'll see what they offer," Kelleth said. "If it's not enough we can offer it to Vadin Ya; although we would, of course, warn her of the potential dangers."

"Another powerful item which turns out to be useless to us," Chantry sighed.

"At least we're making money," said Thorpe. "We've made up everything we lost in the shipwreck, and more, even without counting this haul."

"True, and I'm not complaining," Chantry said, "but it's not why we're here. We just keep coming up with questions when what I really want is answers."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Only one thousand?" Thorpe glared at the mind flayer. "For a Ring of Djinni Summoning? You have to be kidding."

"My species does not jest, human," the illithid replied. "One thousand coins and no more."

"Human, indeed," Thorpe said, snorting. "Forget it. We'll just keep the ring. I'll take the bottle of Deepwine, I know where I can make a decent profit on it, but there's nothing else that interests me." He turned to Kelleth. "Anything here you want to buy, boss?"

"Surprisingly little," Kelleth said. "I'll stock up on enchanted arrows but, other than that, there isn't anything better than the weaponry we already possess."

"Yes, getting onto the select clients list has been a bit of a disappointment," Chantry said.

The mind flayer's facial tentacles drooped. It was impossible to read the facial expressions of the creature but, if Chantry had had to guess, she would have said that it looked crestfallen.

"You are not impressed by our goods?" the mind flayer said.

"Frankly, no," Chantry said. "Sorry. If we'd come across this place straight after the shipwreck then we'd have been delighted with your stock but by now we've acquired better stuff elsewhere."

The mind flayer's tentacles rose and fell. "This is… unsatisfactory," it said. "Our reputation will be sullied. I must rectify this."

Kelleth moved his hands to the hilts of his scimitars. The creature might intend to safeguard the reputation of its shop by disposing of the unimpressed customers…

"We have a few more items set aside," the mind flayer went on, "intended for regular customers, but we have decided to allow you access in the interests of customer relations."

Chantry's eyebrows rose. "Now that's a phrase I never thought I'd hear – well, telepathically receive – from a mind flayer," she remarked. "You haven't converted to the worship of Waukeen, have you?"

"No," the mind flayer replied. Its tentacles rippled. The brain-damaged mind flayer minion, presumably in response to a telepathic order, crossed the cavern floor and returned bearing an extremely long but narrow case. The mind flayer opened it and displayed the contents. "Perhaps you will find something more to your desire in here," he (or she) said.

A two-handed sword stretched the length of the chest. Beside it lay a bowstave, unstrung, and a leather belt.

"A great-sword is of no interest to us," Kelleth said, "but I'll take a look at the bow." The bowstring was coiled beside the stave; he uncoiled it, strung the bow, and made a practice draw.

Chantry watched him, noting the way his leather armor moved to accommodate the play of muscles, and was glad of her face-concealing helm when she realized that she was drooling. Suddenly she was very conscious of the fact that it was over three years since she had last had sex. 'Down, girl,' she chided herself silently. 'He is not for you.'

"Nice draw weight," Kelleth commented. "I should be able to shoot a good twenty yards further with this, and achieve much better penetration, than with my present bow. What enchantment does it have, Aysgarth?"

Aysgarth cast an Identify spell and examined the weapon. "Plus two on the Modified Xander Scale," he reported. "Twice the enchantment of the one you possess."

"Okay, I'm interested," Kelleth told the mind flayer. "How much?"

"Fifteen thousand golden lions," the mind flayer answered.

"_Fifteen thousand_? That's an awful lot for a bow," Kelleth said, "especially after we've done you a service by recovering those research notes which would otherwise have been lost to you. Surely you can drop the price a bit?"

"I have rounded the price down to the nearest thousand," the mind flayer said, "and I will reduce it no further." Its tentacles rose slightly and curved at the tips. "I can sense that you are willing to pay my price. Attempting to haggle merely wastes both our time."

"I suppose it is pretty pointless trying to get the better of a merchant who can read minds," Kelleth conceded. "Very well, I'll take it."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Lions," Chantry mused, once they had left the underground market and were walking under the sun once more. "I'd expected to see lions in Chult but the only ones I've seen have been on the faces of coins."

"I have never seen a lion," Umoja said, "for there are none in my country. There are some to the east, in Thingol, but I do not think there are any in Samarach."

Kelleth nodded. "It makes sense, I suppose," he said. "Lions probably can't compete with the carnivorous dinosaurs."

"And yet there are leopards," Chantry pointed out, "and, with all due respect to Silent Stalker, he's not as tough as a lion."

"Leopards can climb trees," Kelleth answered, "and dinosaurs, at least the ones we've seen so far, can't." Silent Stalker uttered one of his rasping yowls and cocked his head to one side. His expression was, unmistakably, smug.

"That reminds me," Thorpe said, "why don't they have horses in this land? They'd be no bloody good in the thick jungle, of course, but they'd be useful on the roads and the open grassland. Yet there aren't any at all. Even the carts are pulled by oxen. It can't be because the dinosaurs eat them; after all, horses can run away a lot faster than oxen can."

"It's because of nagana," Chantry explained. "A disease carried by biting insects, to which horses are particularly susceptible," she elaborated, as the others, apart from Umoja, looked at her with puzzled expressions on their faces. "It's endemic and immunosuppressive, like the sickness those villagers we met had contracted, and requires multiple spells to cure. Otherwise they die, rather nastily, in under three weeks. Owning horses here simply isn't cost-effective."

"When the men of Baldur's Gate tried to conquer Chult," Umoja said, "they thought to use cavalry to win their battles. Their horses died and their conquest failed."

Aysgarth brought the conversation onto a new track. "I've been considering those odd weapons we took from the Loremaster," he said. "I suspect that Luaire may have more of them."

"Quite probably," Kelleth agreed. "And?"

"We need to work out counter-measures," Aysgarth said. "I have some ideas along those lines but I'd like some time to experiment."

"You're not experimenting on me," Chantry warned.

"Of course not," Aysgarth said. He bit his lip and turned to face Kelleth. "I'm afraid it will have to be animals," he said.

"I suppose it cannot be helped," Kelleth said, "but cause no unnecessary suffering."

"I shall try to avoid that," Aysgarth promised. "It means a delay to our mission, I'm afraid."

"And I still need some laboratory time to work on protecting you from Chokemist poison," Chantry said.

"In that case let's loop round by Taruin," Thorpe suggested. "I can sell the wine there for a whacking great profit. Not enough to make up for what Kelleth spent on his new toy, of course, but a couple of thousand anyway."

"Agreed," said Kelleth, "but no side trips. I want to get this over with as soon as possible."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Finally you arrive," Luaire greeted them. There was no trace of his previous stammer or hesitant manner. "It took you long enough to get here."

"You expected us to find you?" Kelleth raised his eyebrows.

"Why else would one such as I spend time in such lugubrious surroundings as this dank cave?" Luaire waved an arm in a gesture encompassing his surroundings. "I am the bait, this is the trap, and you have fallen into it."

"Luaire used himself as a lure," Chantry remarked to Thorpe. "That's almost a pun." She had summoned a ghoul as an additional fighter for their party, completely immune to the toxic vapors of the cavern, and it bared its teeth as if amused by her comment.

"You thought this was the best place to fight, among your pointless poisons?" Kelleth curled his lip in a sneer. "And I thought yuan-ti were supposed to be superior."

"Indeed they are superior hosts," Luaire replied, "but only compared to you pitiful humans of Tau'ri descent."

"They? Then you're not a yuan-ti?" Kelleth's eyebrows climbed higher.

"The host is," Luaire said, "but the mind is… far greater. You will learn when you, yourself, become a host. You have been… lured here for that purpose. Not Chantry, of course, no Goa'uld would lower himself to inhabit such a damaged vessel, and not the pigmy one, but you and Aysgarth will be useful when we expand our operations into the North. You might as well submit without resistance. Your doom was sealed when you entered this cave and inhaled the lethal spores. You either become hosts or perish."

"Wrong," said Chantry. "Did you forget what I am? I've taken precautions. We could stay here for a month and the only danger we'd be in would be from boredom. What are you talking about? Hosts?" A thought took shape in her mind and she glanced at Aysgarth, wondering if the same possibility had occurred to him, but saw nothing in his expression to give her a clue. "Uh-oh. Don't tell me you're an Intellect Devourer."

"I have heard that term before," Luaire said. "Primitive relatives of the true Goa'uld, I believe, but it is of no importance. I offer two of you the chance to join the ranks of the Goa'uld. The rest of you will become servants of my lord. Refusal is not an option." His eyes lit up, literally, emitting a flash of bright silvery light, and his voice became deeper and resonated with an oddly metallic echo. "Jaffa, kree!"

From the depths of the cave two tall warriors emerged. One carried two jar-like containers suspended below a metal rod. The other held a zat and pointed it at Kelleth.

"Throw down your weapons, humans," Luaire boomed, still in his altered voice, "and submit to your fate."

"I think we've learned about as much as he's going to tell us," Chantry said. "Let's kill him now, okay?"

"Wait," said Kelleth. "You mentioned your lord. Who is that?"

"On this world he has taken the name Zehir," Luaire replied. "You will serve him, as he rises to supreme power, and your pathetic so-called gods fall before him. Throw down your primitive weapons and remove your armor. This is your last chance before I punish you with unbearable pain. Obey me now!"

"Fuck you," Chantry retorted.

"Kill him," Kelleth ordered, and he loosed an arrow from his new bow. Aysgarth sent a Melf's Acid Arrow streaking through the air, Umoja called upon the lightning, and Chantry sent the ghoul forward while boosting herself up with Divine Power. Yushai and Silent Stalker sprang to the attack. Thorpe had been sidling off during the confrontation and now he disappeared from view entirely.

The warrior with the zat fired it and hit Silent Stalker. Nothing happened. The man had time only to open his mouth in astonishment before a hundred and sixty pounds of leaping leopard struck him squarely in the chest and knocked him from his feet. The other man's first act was to set down his burden on the floor. He straightened up just in time to be seized by Yushai.

The magical attacks from Aysgarth and Umoja bounced harmlessly from some invisible shield protecting Luaire. Kelleth's arrow halted in mid-air and fell to the ground.

"Fools!" Luaire boomed. "Resistance is futile." He raised a hand, on which he wore a skeletal gauntlet of metal rings and struts, and from it a wave of energy radiated. It struck Umoja and hurled him back to smash into the rock wall of the cave. Chantry's ghoul was brought up short, two paces before its claws would have made contact, and thrown back with such force that the collision with the rocks shattered its bones and destroyed the undead being utterly.

"Surrender now, pitiful fools," Luaire went on. "I can call upon the magic of the host as well as the technology of the Goa'uld. You stand no chance against me."

"Oh? Feel the power of my goddess, asshole." Chantry chanted an invocation to Talona and fired a beam of Searing Light at Luaire; it, too, was defeated by his shield.

Luaire used his hand weapon to drive back Kelleth, who had drawn scimitars and charged, and then directed the force beam at Chantry. He achieved only limited success. Both of them wore strength belts, both were further enhanced by spells, and both were able to resist to some extent. Instead of being picked up and thrown through the air they were merely sent stumbling backward.

"I tire of this," Luaire snarled. He used a conventional magic spell to summon up a group of giant spiders. The creatures scuttled to the attack. Aysgarth dropped an Ice Storm on Luaire and his summoned allies. Again Luaire's shield protected him but the spiders were battered and wounded by the magical hailstones. Kelleth slashed a spider in half. Chantry called down Hammer of the Gods. The resultant radiance of divine energy finished off the remaining spiders.

And, for the first time, Luaire cried out in pain as the radiation penetrated his shield.

"Insolent bitch!" he snarled. "For that you will suffer!" He focused his force beam on Chantry, increasing the intensity, and managed to knock her from her feet. She slid across the cave floor and collided with the rock wall. Kelleth growled, charged again, and was halted in his tracks as Luaire redirected his weapon.

Suddenly Luaire screamed, a high-pitched yell of agony, and clutched at his groin. He straightened and spun around, lashing out a fist in a blow aimed at his unseen attacker, but missed completely. Thorpe didn't even need to duck. He grinned and stabbed again.

Kelleth, no longer facing a beam of force, rushed forward and swung his scimitars. One drove deep into Luaire's side; the other connected with his neck and sheared through flesh. It didn't quite separate the head from the shoulders but it was close. Luaire, killed instantly, toppled to the ground.

"And the moral of this story," Thorpe said, grinning, "is 'never let a halfling get behind you with a sharp knife'. Or, in this case, a short-sword."

Chantry picked herself up and went, immediately, to where Umoja lay motionless. Yushai, his muzzle red with blood almost to the level of his eyes, joined her and chirruped anxiously.

"His skull is fractured," Chantry reported. Kelleth broke off from examining Luaire's corpse and, concern evident on his face, came over at once.

"He would have been in real danger even a couple of days ago," Chantry went on, "but luckily our recent actions seem to have pleased my goddess and I've been granted more powerful spells. Including," she touched her fingers to Umoja's head and her tone changed, "Heal!"

Immediately Umoja's eyes opened and he sat up. "Thank you, Chantry," he said. "I take it that Luaire is dead?"

"If not, he's doing a very good impression," Chantry said. "Kelleth pretty near cut his head off."

"Don't forget my little contribution," Thorpe reminded her. "I don't know if I actually castrated him, or if I just got his thigh, but I certainly made his eyes water."

"He spoke most strangely," Umoja said. "What manner of being was he?"

"We'll find out when we examine the body," Kelleth said, "or, at least, I think we will."

The two bodyguards, as expected, had perished under the teeth and claws of the animal companions. "Tattooed foreheads again," Chantry said. "Well, I'm not completely sure about this one, there isn't much of his face left, but the other one definitely has that same symbol. I would have taken it to be the markings of a cult, probably snake worshippers or something of that ilk, but the link to Teal'c is puzzling."

"The zat-thing confirms the link," Aysgarth said. "And we now have proof in actual battle that Freedom of Movement does, indeed, neutralize the weapon's effects. We must bear this in mind lest we have further confrontations with foes using zats."

"I wonder what was in those jars?" Chantry said. One of them had been shattered during the fight, and whatever had been inside had been stamped flat by Yushai, but the other was still intact. Chantry opened the other, cautiously, while the others watched.

As soon as the lid was removed a creature reared up and tried to escape. Chantry seized it in her gauntleted hand, held it tight, and looked at it closely. "What the fuck is it?"

It resembled a snake, or perhaps an eel, but its mouth was strange; almost insectile, with four parts to the jaw. A small fin rose from the creature's back and a pair of fins protruded, in the manner of arms or a fish's pectoral fins, from the body just behind the head.

"I have seen nothing like it before," Aysgarth said. "Have you, Umoja?"

"I have not," Umoja replied. "I do not think it is native to the lands of Chult."

"Putting the way they were carrying them together with the stuff Luaire was spouting," Chantry said, "I would deduce that they're parasites in the same way as Intellect Devourers. Luaire probably had one inside him. Controlling him. We were speaking to the parasite and not to the real Luaire."

"I wonder how long it's been there," Kelleth said. "It might explain why he turned against Sa Sani after long and loyal service. He didn't; the thing inside him did."

"Something called a Goa'uld," Aysgarth mused. "Servant to one named 'Zehir' who seeks, it would seem, to overthrow the very gods."

"He mentioned something about them expanding their operations to the North," Chantry said. "Does this mean Neverwinter is in danger? Sa'Sani does have a trading operation there."

"I strongly suspect that Neverwinter is, indeed, in danger," Kelleth said. "Perhaps all of Faerûn."

"And at last I'm beginning to see why my goddess sent me here," Chantry said. She looked at the creature squirming in her grasp. "I'm getting bored of holding this thing," she said, "and the Divine Power has expired so I'm not strong enough to squash it to death. Would someone do me a favor and cut its head off?"

Thorpe obliged. The head fell away and Chantry dropped the body, still thrashing in its death throes, back into the jar. "I wonder how many more of them there are?" she said.

"A disturbing thought," Kelleth said.

"I've had another disturbing thought," Aysgarth said. "I wonder if Sa'Sani is, herself, a yuan-ti?"

Chantry shrugged. "She pays well and, unlike most of the people in this country, she's always been pleasant and courteous," she said. "It's certainly possible that she might be a yuan-ti but, to be honest, I don't give a damn."


	6. The Long Way Home

**Chapter Six: The Long Way Home**

_Underneath your own safe sky  
You may never wonder why  
Some will never make their peace  
Some have never been released  
Fires in the L.A. sky  
The truth ran out and justice died  
You better arm the National Guard  
Cause final notice has been served_

_Searching for the long way home  
Searching for the long way home_

(Big Country, _Long Way Home_)

"Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said, "we need to speak to you in private."

"Oh?" Sa'Sani arched an eyebrow. "Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of Nas'Sirin and Osi Tchaluka."

"No," said Chantry, "it really can't."

"Perhaps so," Kelleth said, more diplomatically, "but not in the open courtyard. We should go inside."

"Ideally to somewhere shielded against scrying," Aysgarth added.

"Very well, then," Sa'Sani agreed. "Come into my house." She paused and looked at Chantry, who had set aside her hot and uncomfortable full-face helm in the safety of the plaza, and studied her expression for a moment. Sa'Sani pursed her lips. "No, Nas'Sirin, Osi, stay here," she said to her two aides, who were moving to accompany her. "I shall grant them the audience in private that they request."

"Of course, my Lady," Osi Tchaluka said, and he returned to his seat.

"I protest!" Nas'Sirin exclaimed. "It is not appropriate for you to invite foreign mercenaries into your house. Bad enough that you have permitted Volothamp Geddarm to stay under your roof but at least he is a well-known literary figure. These," he gestured at Kelleth's group, "are merely hired killers. And to exclude me from the meeting – ridiculous!"

"Nevertheless," Sa'Sirin replied, "it is my wish, and you will abide by it. Sit down, Nas'Sirin. Follow me, gentlemen, and lady." She set off toward the house with the party, minus their animal companions, following in her wake.

Chantry delayed for a moment to speak to Nas'Sirin. "Yes, we're hired killers," she said. "Has it occurred to you that pissing us off maybe isn't a great idea?" She gave him a brief smile and then followed the others.

It was cool and shady inside the building. Much more pleasant, to the Neverwinter natives, than the bright sunshine of the exterior plaza. Sa'Sirin led the way to an office in which were a desk of polished zalantar wood and several chairs.

"Now," she said, settling herself behind the desk, "what is it that you wished to say that could not be said in front of my trusted associates?"

"We caught up with Luaire," Kelleth said. "He's dead."

"That is good news," Sa'Sani said. "Was your desire for privacy because you believe that the law would look harshly upon you for slaying a Samarach citizen? Have no fear. Luaire betrayed me, and caused the deaths of people in my employ, and I am perfectly within my rights in taking direct action against him. You were merely my instruments in that action and your deed cannot be held against you."

"I'm afraid there's more to it than that, milady," Aysgarth said. "First, Luaire was a yuan-ti."

"A yuan-ti? Are you sure?"

"We're sure," Kelleth confirmed. "We'd killed an associate of his earlier, a man named Hadric the Loremaster, and he was definitely a yuan-ti. We accused Luaire of being a yuan-ti too and he admitted it."

"Gods and demons!" Sa'Sani exclaimed. "This is bad. You were indeed wise to reveal this in private. Luaire has been in my employ for years and the authorities would never believe that I was ignorant of his race. I could be subject to confiscation of my business, imprisonment, even execution."

"That's not all," Kelleth said. "In fact you could almost say that was the good news."

"There is worse?"

"He was… possessed," Chantry said. "A creature called a Goa'uld, something like an Intellect Devourer, had taken him over. It claimed god-like powers. They didn't extend to surviving the host getting his head chopped off, luckily, but it was certainly powerful."

"It intended to have Kelleth and myself taken over by others of its species," Aysgarth added. "Luaire told us that we would be 'useful' when they expanded their operations into the North. This leads us to believe that they, whatever they are, are a threat to Neverwinter."

"That may well be the case," Sa'Sani said. "There has as yet been no response to the message I sent to my representatives at Crossroads Keep. Of course there was a substantial delay, due to Luaire's betrayal, but I will feel a lot easier in my mind when I receive a reply." She rested her hands on the desktop and looked down at them. Her little finger twitched up and down, her lips were pursed, and her shoulders slumped.

"If you wish to return to Neverwinter," Sa'Sani said after a moment, raising her head and looking Kelleth in the eye, "I will release you from my service and allow you to use the Lantanese portal. I would prefer you to stay, of course, but I will understand if you decide to depart."

The party exchanged glances. "What do you think?" Kelleth asked the others.

"It's all the same to me," Thorpe said. "I'll go along with whatever the rest of you decide."

Umoja shrugged. "Neverwinter is not my homeland. I too shall abide by the majority decision."

"I am in two minds," said Aysgarth. "Will we learn more by staying here or by returning home? I would dearly like to consult with sages but, alas, there are none available in the parts of the cities to which we have access. The only one we found turned out to be one of the enemy."

"I vote for staying," Chantry declared. "There is yet more to learn here, I am sure, and my goddess must have sent me here for a reason. The clincher, as far as I am concerned, is that," she looked into Sa'Sani's eyes, "I respect our employer. I would not want to desert you in a time of need, Lady Sa'Sani."

"Thank you, Chantry Linton, most sincerely," Sa'Sani said. She smiled at Chantry, a broad and open smile, and her shoulders straightened.

"It would not sit well with me, either, to leave you in the lurch, milady," Kelleth said. "We shall stay."

"Thank you, Kelleth Gill," Sa'Sani said. "You have lightened my heart when it was heavy indeed. Your loyalty means a lot to me."

"That's good to know," said Kelleth. "We shall stick around and continue to wield our swords in your service."

"The creature that was controlling Luaire mentioned that it served a god called Zehir," Aysgarth said. "That name is unknown to me, to Umoja, and to Chantry. Do you know aught of this Zehir, milady?"

Sa'Sani's brow furrowed. "The yuan-ti worship Sseth, although it is rumored that he slumbers and that prayers to him are answered by Set of the Mulhorandi gods, and the humans of Samarach mainly worship the same gods as do you of the North. I have never heard of a god named Zehir."

"An interloper deity, I suspect," said Chantry, "from another world."

"That is my deduction also," Aysgarth agreed. "One hostile to our existing gods."

"The affairs of the gods are beyond me," Sa'Sani said, "but I would like you to look into it. My prime concern is why my operations have been targeted, of course, but I give you a free hand to investigate as you see fit. No doubt answers to my questions will emerge as you learn more."

She removed a slim gold chain from around her neck, revealing a small key that had been concealed under her clothing, and used the key to open a locked drawer in the desk. From the drawer she withdrew a leather pouch heavy enough that she needed to use both hands to hand it to Kelleth. "Take this as further payment, and to cover expenses," she said. "Five thousand. I trust it is enough?"

"Indeed it is, milady, and more," Kelleth answered. "We cover our expenses with what we take from the bodies of our fallen foes."

"Ah, yes, an advantage adventurers possess over merchants," Sa'Sani said. "When I take money from others I have to provide goods or services in return."

"On the other hand," Kelleth said, "when your suppliers charge you an arm and a leg, they only do it metaphorically."

Sa'Sani laughed. "Indeed so. I have no desire to take up the adventuring life. I will leave that to you. Go, then, and carry out your investigation."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"I thought Volo might know something of Zehir," Kelleth told the others, over their evening meal, "but no. He's never heard the name before. He did mention something that might have some relevance. He says he's heard that Shar has acquired a lot of worshippers on other worlds recently, as many or more than follow her on Toril, and it's possible she's made an enemy of some alien god in the process."

"And he's come here to strike back at her on her own ground?" Chantry shook her head. "He must either be very powerful or very stupid. Probably both."

"Indeed so," Kelleth agreed. "What about you? Was Vadin Ya able to contribute anything?"

"Nothing," Chantry admitted. "She knows nothing of Zehir. I tried the priest at the Temple of Waukeen but he is a mere novitiate, barely out of training, and doesn't know anything either."

"Aysgarth?" Kelleth turned to the wizard.

"I've been studying that device we took from Luaire's hand," Aysgarth said. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before and I can't work out how to operate it. There are buttons on the part that goes around the wrist, obviously controls, but nothing happens when I press them. It doesn't work through Arcane magic but it isn't Divine either. I thought perhaps it might draw upon the Shadow Weave, but no, that is not the case. Its power, according to a Legend Lore spell, comes from faerzress."

Kelleth's brow furrowed. "Faer what?"

"The mystical energy that permeates parts of the Underdark," Aysgarth explained. "The Drow use it for some of their magic. Darkness, Levitation, and the like."

"You think, then, that those Intellect Devourer things come from the Underdark?" Kelleth asked.

"Possibly," Aysgarth said, "but I doubt it. Remember the words on the map? 'Landing Site'. That would make no sense if they come from below. No, they are from another world and, presumably, have traveled here by magical skyship. A world, I would guess, where the substance that produces faerzress is more common than it is here."

"There was a drow at the black market," Chantry said. "Perhaps she could tell us more about the device."

"I think bringing it to the attention of an unknown drow, in the vicinity of untrustworthy beings who can read minds, would be an extremely bad idea," Aysgarth said.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Chantry decided. "Forget I mentioned it."

"I'm afraid I spent so long on the device that I didn't do anything about placing additional charms on our weapons," Aysgarth told Kelleth. "I'll have to do that tomorrow."

"Don't worry about it," Kelleth replied. "We…" He broke off as he saw a squad of Samarachan guards entering the inn. "They don't usually come in here," he commented. The female officer they knew only as Elite Leader led the squad; she headed for the bar but, before she reached it, she spotted Kelleth's party.

"Uh-oh," Chantry said, as Elite Leader and her men headed directly toward them across the dining area. "I don't think she's here to take up my offer of a drink. Trouble."

"Don't start a fight unless it's unavoidable," Kelleth cautioned. There was no time to say anything else before the guards arrived.

"Foreigners," Elite Leader addressed Kelleth's group, "you are required immediately to go to the courtyard of Sa'Sani's Mercantile House."

Kelleth pushed back his chair and stood up. "Then we shall do so," he said. Chantry pouted, but made no objection, and Kelleth led them out of the inn behind the guards.

When they arrived at Sa'Sani's courtyard they found a confrontation in progress. Sa'Sani, clad in looser and more informal robes than the ones she wore during business hours, faced Captain Dajos. Her subordinates Nas'Sirin and Osi Tchaluka, together with Volo, stood at her side. Captain Dajos, resplendent in his gilded armor, had several armed guards at his back.

"This is ridiculous!" Sa'Sani protested. "Luaire betrayed me and sabotaged my operations. As soon as I found out I took action."

"You had him killed, you mean," Dajos said.

Sa'Sani folded her arms and glared at him. "As was my right in the circumstances."

"True," Dajos conceded, "but the fact remains that he was a yuan-ti and was in your employ for some years. You are suspected of involvement in conspiracy with the snake folk."

"Any such conspiracy was directed _against_ me," Sa'Sani pointed out. "I am the victim here."

"Your objections are futile," Dajos replied. "The decision has already been made. By order of the Council you are banished from Samargol while this matter is investigated. Care of the mercantile company, in your absence, is to be turned over to your chief accountant Osi Tchaluka."

"Me? But I am a mere bookkeeper," Osi protested. "I am not qualified for such a task."

"Be at ease, Osi," Sa'Sani addressed him. "I am perfectly content for you to run the company in my – temporary – absence."

"Surely, if anyone should be appointed to a caretaker management position, it should be me," said Nas'Sirin.

Captain Dajos turned a cold glare on him. "Your association with Sa'Sani tars you equally with suspicion," he said. "You are also banished. If you have not departed from the city by sunset tomorrow, at the latest, both of you will be considered guilty and be put to the sword on the spot."

He ignored further protestations from both Sa'Sani and Nas'Sirin and turned to Kelleth. "I take it you heard the sentence."

"I did," Kelleth said.

"Nice simple legal system you have here," Chantry commented, "uncluttered by considerations such as fair trials and the accused getting a defense."

"That is true, foreign priestess, and you would be wise not to forget it," Dajos said. He directed his gaze at Kelleth. "You are not necessarily subject to the banishment order. Killing yuan-ti is no crime, after all, and the infiltrator in Nimbre would have gone undetected if not for you. If you can find another sponsor, within the next ten-day, your party may stay in Samargol."

"I will sponsor them," a female voice called out from just outside the courtyard.

Chantry recognized the speaker immediately. Vadin'ya.

Captain Dajos turned, saw Vadin'ya and her ever-present bodyguard, and raised his eyebrows. "You? But you are also a foreigner."

"I have a residency permit, my little golden-breasted starling," Vadin'ya said, "and I pay dues to the Mercantile Association. I should get something back in return for those dues, should I not?"

"Hmm." Dajos raised a hand and stroked his chin. "I suppose I have no objections in principle. If the Mercantile Association approves then, yes, you may act as their sponsor."

Vadin'ya smiled at Chantry. "So, my friends, problem solved, no?"

Chantry smiled back. "Indeed so. Thank you, Vadin'ya, you are a true friend."

"Ta, you're a pal," Thorpe chimed in.

Aysgarth's brow furrowed and he raised a hand to stroke his beard. He restricted himself to a simple, although obviously sincere, "Thank you."

Kelleth nodded to Vadin'ya and said, almost curtly, "Thanks." He then bit his lip briefly, smiled, and added, "Sorry. That sounded impolite. I am truly grateful, Vadin Ya, but in fact it does not solve all our problems. It is a help, certainly, but not a complete solution."

Vadin'ya shrugged. "Even the gods cannot solve all problems. I have done what I can, my eagle of the North, and now I must return to my interrupted meal."

Captain Dajos watched the tiefling merchant walk away and then turned back to Sa'Sani. "Very well. Your foreign hirelings can stay in Samargol under the auspices of Madame Vadin'ya. You, however, must be gone before sunset tomorrow, as I said, or face execution. Volothamp Geddarm, as your guest rather than an employee, must leave also. You may not return to the city until the Council gives permission." His lips formed into the shape of a smile but his eyes remained cold. "I do not expect that they will give such permission any time in the foreseeable future. That is all."

"I shall protest at the highest level," Sa'Sani said.

"Do so if you wish," Dajos replied, "but you will only be wasting your time. Farewell." He led his squad of guards, and the second squad commanded by Elite Leader, out of the courtyard and away toward the gates of the plaza.

"Bastard," Sa'Sani spat out, and then turned to Kelleth. "This accusation is farcical. My rivals sought an excuse to squeeze me out and the discovery of Luaire's race gave them a pretext."

Kelleth nodded. "Undoubtedly. They must have followed us, retrieved his corpse, and examined it. I thought that leaving it, decapitated, in a cave filled with poisonous fungus spores was sufficient. Obviously I was wrong. We should have burned it."

"Did you notice that a couple of the soldiers he had with him at the village of Nimbre weren't with him now?" Chantry asked. "I suspect they were the ones who were sent in to fetch the body." A smirk appeared on her face. "They're probably dead of Chokemist poisoning."

"Wouldn't bet against it," said Thorpe. "Poor dumb bastards."

Sa'Sani showed no interest in Chantry's deduction. "I shall leave first thing in the morning," she said. "There is no point in hanging on until the last possible minute and then having to travel through the jungle by night."

"Where to?" Nas'Sirin asked. "Rassatan or Taruin?"

"Neither," Sa'Sani answered. "I think that it is time for me to take personal control of our operations in the Sword Coast. We shall use the portal of the gnomes and travel to Crossroad Keep."

Nas'Sirin's eyes widened. "No, Sa'Sani, you must reconsider! Surely it would be far better to relocate to Rassatan for the time being instead. If we leave the country the Council could interpret it as an admission of guilt and we would be as good as dead."

"Neither the Council nor the High Phantasmage have any jurisdiction in Neverwinter," Sa'Sani pointed out. "We could be exiled, yes; executed, no."

"But…" Nas'Sirin began.

Sa'Sani cut him off short. "Do you really think we would be safe in Rassatan? We have been too successful and made too many enemies who are jealous of our success. Now that this accusation has been made they have a lever they can use against us at any time. There is no safety anywhere within the reach of the Council. No, we must leave Samarach altogether."

"I suppose so," Nas'Sirin conceded.

"We have already laid the foundations of a new business empire in Neverwinter," Sa'Sani went on, "and so that is where we shall go." She turned to Kelleth. "And now I have loyal and highly competent Neverwinter natives in my service."

"We would be delighted to accompany you to Neverwinter and continue to work for you there," Kelleth said. He smiled. "That removes the question of possibly divided loyalties that worried me when Vadin Ya stepped in with her offer."

"Oh, _that_ was why you weren't all that enthusiastic about it," Chantry said. "Right. I get it now."

"The only down side," Kelleth went on, "is that it will mean saying goodbye to Umoja, who has been a staunch colleague and a true friend."

"Not so, friend Kelleth," Umoja said. "My mission is the same as Chantry's and I sense that it is the will of great Ubtao that I stay with your party. I shall travel to Neverwinter with you." He gave a wry smile. "I have never seen snow. It could be interesting."

"You won't see snow," Kelleth told him. "Winter was coming to an end when we set off on the ship. It'll be spring there now. It won't be as hot as it is here, of course, but it won't be cold."

"So, back to Neverwinter by portal," Chantry said. "Of course, if we'd known about it before, we could have skipped the whole sea voyage." She directed her gaze at Sa'Sani. "I take it you didn't trust Volo not to write about it and give away the secret?"

Sa'Sani shook her head. "I would have authorized Il'foss and Kizu to send Volo here by portal had that been feasible," she said, "but the portal at Crossroad Keep is not fully functional. I gather it was damaged during the Shadow War. It will receive but not transmit. Anything to be sent here must be carried first to Neverwinter and the merchant cartels who control the portal there charge large sums for its use. Two thousand gold nobles per person, for passenger transport, is the figure I was quoted. I am not willing to pay such fees, except in emergencies, and therefore I told Luaire to bring Volo, and his entourage, by ship."

"It's probably an interface problem," Aysgarth mused, stroking his beard between finger and thumb as he spoke. "I might be able to fix the portal. I'm surprised Aldanon the Sage or Sand haven't fixed it already."

"I heard Sand left Neverwinter," Chantry said.

"Oh?" Aysgarth raised his eyebrows. "I hadn't heard that. What happened?"

"Well, Sumia told me…" Chantry began.

Kelleth cut her off short. "Later, Chantry," he said. "Lady Sa Sani, we had better return to the inn. We shall be ready to escort you to the portal in the morning."

"I thank you, Kelleth, but I have a different task for you," Sa'Sani replied. "I shall make my own way to the gnomes' camp."

"The jungle trail can be dangerous," Kelleth warned.

"Fear not, ranger," Sa'Sani replied. "I am by no means defenseless. With Nas'Sirin and Volo at my side I do not anticipate any difficulty in reaching my destination. It would be useful, however, if you could give me some means of identifying myself as your employer. If we encounter the Batiri tribe you befriended – the Shattered Spear tribe, was it not? – we would be able to avoid unnecessary conflict."

"Of course," Kelleth said. "I've already arranged an identification signal for the gnomes to use so it won't be a problem. What is the task you want us to do?"

"Go to Rassatan," Sa'Sani told him, "enter the Temple of Waukeen, and give this note to the resident priest. He will give you a package in return. My emergency reserve, golden pearls to the value of fifty thousand lions, and you are to bring it to me at Crossroad Keep. I shall instruct the gnomes to be ready to transport you as soon as you reach their camp."

"Certainly, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said.

"You would entrust those… foreigners with your valuables?" Nas'Sirin's lip curled. "You are being foolish. Better that we should divert to Rassatan to collect them for ourselves."

"The sooner we are out of the Council's jurisdiction the safer I will feel," Sa'Sani stated. "I trust Kelleth and his companions absolutely. They have proven themselves beyond doubt and my mind is made up. Question my decisions no more."

Nas'Sirin obeyed. He stepped back and folded his arms. He merely observed in silence as Sa'Sani gave Kelleth a few final instructions and was given, in return, the identification signal that would allow her safe passage through the lands of the Shattered Spear Batiri.

With those arrangements made Kelleth and his party left Sa'Sani's courtyard, crossed the plaza, and returned to the inn and to the cold remnants of their evening meal.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"You know," Chantry remarked, as they sipped at the fine coffee which was, in her opinion, one of the few plus points of Samarach, "I really, really, don't like that Nas'Sirin."

"Me neither," Thorpe agreed. "Hope a dinosaur eats him on the trip through the jungle."

"It probably wouldn't be able to digest him," Chantry said. She drained her coffee cup and stood up. "I'm going to go say goodbye to Vadin'ya, Kelleth, okay?"

"Of course," Kelleth said. "Say farewell for me, too, and give her my thanks for her intercession."

"And mine," said Aysgarth.

"I will," Chantry said. "She'll be about the only person in this country I'll miss. I hate to leave her but, on the other hand, we're going back to Neverwinter. That's ample cause for celebration."

"You're going back to Neverwinter?" Captain Lastri, the halfling who had commanded the ill-fated ship on which they had voyaged to Samarach, rose from her nearby seat and rushed over. "Can I come with you, shipmates?"

"We're not sailing," Kelleth warned her, and then added, "Well, not directly. It'll mean a trek through the jungle first."

"I don't care," Lastri said. "Even if you're walking all the way to Halruaa, and getting a skyship from there, I want to come with you. I can't take staying in this bloody place any longer. I can't get a Master's berth on any ship out of here, I let Nestrul take the only slot for a Mate that came up, and if I sign on as a common seaman, after my last command ended in a shipwreck, I'm finished as a captain. I probably am anyway unless I can prove the Vigilant was sabotaged."

"And we did the investigation of the wreck," Kelleth said. "You need our testimony."

"That's right," Lastri said. "Be a damn sight easier to keep in touch if I travel with you."

Kelleth glanced at Thorpe. The halfling thief was nodding and smiling; not surprisingly, as he had a relationship going with Lastri. Or rather he was shagging Lastri every time she was drunk enough to be in the mood, but not so drunk as to collapse into insensibility, anyway. That probably counted as a relationship as far as the halfling rogue was concerned.

"Very well," Kelleth said, "you can come. Be warned, though, the path through the jungle might be perilous."

"I can handle a cutlass better than most," Lastri assured him. "Just make sure your big pussycat, and that bloody feathered lizard, know that I'm not on the menu, okay?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Thanks again for fixing the Interface Widget," the gnome Dall Nickelplate said to Aysgarth. "We sent to Lantan for a new part, got it installed, and everything's running smoothly. We'll have you at Crossroad Keep in a jiffy. As long as the connection at that end is working, that is. We had to dial up three times, with Sa'Sani and her henchman huffing and glaring, before the link was established and she could go through."

"You'd better get started, then," Aysgarth said.

Dall took out a scroll with the co-ordinates, peered at it, and pressed the indicated buttons on the control device. The ring around the portal rotated but nothing else happened. "Oh dear," the gnome said. "I'll try again."

This time the ring locked and the portal shimmered into life. "There you are," Dall said, "we're in business. You'd better go through straight away."

"Are you sure this thing's safe?" Lastri asked.

"Oh, yes, definitely," Dall answered. "Uh, as long as you don't have any metal with you, that is."

"No metal? I have my sword, my money, my buckles…" Lastri began.

"He's having you on," Thorpe said. "They brought all those saws and great big iron golems here through it, didn't they? Bloody gnomes and their so-called sense of humor."

"Portals have been in use for thousands of years," Aysgarth said. "Of course it's safe."

"Definitely a damn sight safer than walking back to Samargol on your own, anyway," said Chantry. "Come on, let's not hang around any longer."

"Right," said Kelleth. He took hold of Silent Stalker by the scruff of the neck and led the leopard toward the shimmering blue disc. Umoja guided Yushai after him and the rest followed. A few seconds later all had passed through. The portal wavered, blinked, and shut down.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

For a second Chantry felt as if she was being simultaneously stretched out and hurled through space. Streaks of light shot past her and she heard a ringing in her ears. Then she was standing on solid ground once more, feeling a mild wave of nausea and dizziness, but it quickly passed. She looked around, surprised to find that they were in the dark, and could barely make out the shapes of her companions. She cast a Light spell to illuminate her surroundings just as Aysgarth did the same thing.

"If this is Crossroad Keep," Chantry said, "I don't think much of the décor." They were in a dank stone-floored chamber, with sarcophagi visible to the sides, and rusted metal gratings over openings in the walls that let in no light whatsoever. Iron railings, visibly corroded, bordered semicircular pools of stagnant water that might, long ago, have been decorative features or even fountains. The ring of magical metal, normally an essential part of any fixed portal, was nowhere to be seen.

"I know the portal was in the basement originally," Aysgarth said, "but I'm sure I heard they'd moved it out of the keep into one of the other buildings. This, though, seems to be a crypt."

"What is this? Who are you?" a male voice asked. "You're not what I summoned. In fact, come to think of it, I hadn't even finished the invocation."

The speaker was outside the chamber, beyond a wrought-iron gate, in an equally dimly-lit room. Chantry couldn't make out much except a vague impression of a short figure in robes with something else, probably several somethings, moving in its vicinity.

"Some sort of dwarf wizard-type," Thorpe reported, keeping his voice low. "Whatever's with him doesn't have any body heat. Probably Undead."

"And this is not where we expected to arrive," Kelleth said. "Where are we, and who are you?"

"I asked first," the dwarf said. "Who are you?"

"Kelleth Gill, ranger of Neverwinter, and party," Kelleth replied. "Adventurers on the way to Crossroad Keep. Now it is your turn. Answer my questions, if you please."

"Hah! Fool, now that you have given me your name, you are as much in my power as the demon I intended to summon would have been," the dwarf gloated. "I shall send you in its stead to destroy my enemy."

"Oh? And who is your enemy?" Kelleth asked.

"Khulmar, of Clan Ironfist, a miserable Shield Dwarf," the dwarf wizard replied.

"Isn't he Khelgar's cousin or something?" Chantry asked. "Fuck that."

"You know," Kelleth told the dwarf, "I don't feel any impulse at all to obey your orders. Your plan seems to have gone badly wrong."

"Nevertheless," said the wizard, "you cannot leave the summoning circle. Unless you consent to a Geas I shall leave you there to starve to death."

"Summoning circle?" Chantry looked down and saw a trail of powdered metal forming a ring on the flagstones of the floor. She was already outside the circle and she hadn't even noticed. "Oh. I wonder if there's some sort of prize for the world's most incompetent demon summoner. You're definitely in with a good chance. And I take it you're standing behind that cold iron gate as a back-up in case there was a fault with the wards on the circle? I'm afraid it does fuck all to hold back humans. You're in a lot of trouble."

Thorpe threw something past the bars of the gate. A coin, enchanted with a Continual Light spell, to light up the area. It revealed a bald-headed gray dwarf, clad in robes embroidered with necromancer's sigils, with a retinue of animated skeletons flanking him on both sides.

Kelleth drew back his bowstring and took aim. "Open the gate, make your skeletons back away, and make no sudden moves."

"No! I command you! Obey me!" the necromancer yelled, and then he leapt hastily aside as Kelleth loosed his arrow. "You shall suffer for that, adventurers."

"That lubber's got a right inflated opinion of himself, ain't he?" Lastri remarked. She drew her sword.

"That's just what I was going to say," Thorpe said, "only I wouldn't have said 'lubber'."

"_I don't want a lubber_," Chantry sang, "_but I need a friend_." She saw a ring of uncomprehending stares aimed at her and chopped herself off short. "Okay, okay," she said. "We'll just kill him, then." She cast Bull's Strength on Kelleth. "You should be able to just rip that gate off its hinges now."

Kelleth put away his bow, relatively ineffective against skeletons, and advanced to the gate. "Let's see," he said, seized the bars, and heaved. Metal groaned and deformed.

The skeletons clustered on the other side of the gate, slashing and jabbing at Kelleth with swords and spears, but they lacked the intelligence to allow for the iron bars of the gate. Most of the blows failed to get through. A few, though, struck Kelleth. His leather armor turned some aside harmlessly but a sword sliced bone-deep into his arm and a spear pierced through the leather and the point drove deep into his belly.

Chantry tried to drive back the skeletons but failed. Undead were outside her specialist areas of expertise and she couldn't override the necromancer's control over the animated bones. She gave up, rushed to Kelleth, and hurriedly cast a Heal spell.

Kelleth, his wounds healed, completed his demolition of the gate. He drove forward, smashing the iron frame into the skeletons and felling them, then tossed it aside and drew his scimitars. The others followed behind him as he charged.

The dwarf necromancer cast a Cause Fear spell. It sent Thorpe, Yushai, and Silent Stalker fleeing headlong back into the deeper crypt. The others were unaffected. Kelleth hurled himself at the dwarf, striking a series of blows with his scimitars that stripped away the necromancer's defensive Stoneskin, and Aysgarth launched a well-timed Magic Missile that disrupted the next spell the dwarf tried to cast. Chantry pulverized the remaining skeletons with her mace. The last layer of the Stoneskin failed and the necromancer fell to simultaneous blows from Umoja's spear and Lastri's short-sword.

Chantry and Umoja dispelled the magical fear and the animal companions returned to their masters. Thorpe searched the floor for the sword he had dropped in his panic, sheathed it, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I hate it when that happens," he said.

"It was not your fault, friend Thorpe," Umoja said. "No man is braver than Yushai and yet he, too, fled when smitten by the magic."

"Thanks," Thorpe said. He scanned his surroundings. "I don't think this crypt is under Crossroad Keep at all," he said. "It would be a bloody stupid place to summon a demon to go after Khelgar's cousin."

"Our journey has, indeed, gone astray," Aysgarth said. "I believe we are probably on a direct line between Samarach and the Keep. The portal there failed to respond to that of the gnomes, again, and then this dwarf opened a summoning circle just as Dall was dialing. It picked up the signal and acted as the destination portal for our journey."

"If we're not at Crossroad Keep," Chantry said, "there's no reason for us not to loot these tombs."

"What about respect for the dead?" Kelleth asked.

"Your left-hand scimitar came from a crypt we looted near Taruin," Chantry reminded him, a touch of acid creeping into her tone. "Aren't you being a little hypocritical?"

"Oh." Kelleth looked at his scimitars, frowned, and sheathed them. "I suppose I am."

"Anyway," Chantry went on, "where do you think that dwarf got those skeletons? The dead here have already been defiled."

"Very well, then, you might as well go ahead," Kelleth said.

"Already started," Thorpe said. "The dwarf's got bugger all of value on him."

"He's still grey even without the Stoneskin," Aysgarth observed. "A duergar, it would seem."

"A dead one now," Thorpe said. "Whatever his story was it's over and, frankly, I'm not that interested. That crypt over there doesn't look to have been disturbed. Aha. It's trapped. Could be some good stuff inside."

Five minutes later Thorpe had disabled all traps and recovered a good haul from the crypts.

"Nice armor," Chantry commented, looking at a set of mail-and-plates that had adorned a corpse in one of the sarcophagi. The shape of the breastplate revealed that it had been made for a woman and the steel gleamed with a blue sheen. "Still in pristine condition after who knows how long in the grave. It has to be magical. Aysgarth, would you Identify it for me?"

"Certainly," Aysgarth said, and cast the spell. "Armor of Comfort," he announced. "Self-cleaning, deodorizing, lightweight, and with two levels of protective enchantment. It would be as effective against blows as your existing full plate and yet it's twenty pounds lighter and much less restrictive." He stroked his beard. "And very pretty. I wonder if it was made for a priestess of Sune?"

Chantry grimaced, unseen behind her helm, and bent down to examine the armor more closely. "I hope not. I wouldn't want to wear something that had belonged to a follower of the vile, loathsome, treacherous, cowardly, Slut Goddess."

"I take it you're not keen on Sune," Aysgarth remarked.

"You could say that," Chantry said. "Ah. I don't need to worry. I see the maker's mark. Marrok of Shining Knight Arms and Armor. The Sunites never bought from him."

"I hadn't finished recounting what I learned," Aysgarth went on. "There's a charm cast upon it to increase the healing skills of whoever wears it."

"Nice," Chantry said. "I claim it as my share of the loot."

"Hardly needed, in your case," Kelleth commented. "You're already the finest healer I've ever met."

"True," said Umoja. "A Cure Light Wounds from Chantry is as effective as a Cure Moderate Wounds spell from me."

"It's my specialty," Chantry said. "Actually Sumia makes me look like an amateur but, well, thanks."

"I could do with some better armor myself," Kelleth remarked. "These leathers aren't quite up to the standard of the set I lost in the shipwreck."

"I'm sure we'll be able to purchase a good set at Crossroad Keep," Aysgarth said, "or, at worst, I could improve the existing enchantment somewhat. Once those holes are patched, that is, of course."

"Assuming we are within reach of Crossroad Keep," said Kelleth, "although the fact that this duergar was an enemy of Khelgar's relative does indicate that we're somewhere within the realm of Neverwinter, or close by. What else did you find, Thorpe?"

"A light shield which seems to be enchanted, a few potions, and an emerald," the halfling reported. "The rest is junk. Corroded armor and rusted swords."

"Well, this diversion has turned a profit for us, it would seem," Kelleth said, his earlier qualms about grave-robbing seemingly forgotten. "Once Chantry has changed her armor we can leave this crypt and find out where we are."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"We're on the southern fringe of the Sword Mountains," Kelleth announced. "The Mere of Dead Men is over that way," he said, pointing, "and the mining town of Leilon is to the north-east of where we stand, not more than an hour or two's walk. I know this area well. I hail from Phandalin, at the northern end of the mountains, but I have visited Leilon often in the past. "

"Quite a way from Neverwinter City, then," said Chantry. "I've never been in this area before. We must be nearly at the southern border."

"We are indeed," Kelleth confirmed. "Neverwinter itself lies a hundred and twenty miles, or thereabouts, to the north. Crossroad Keep would be, oh, seventy, seventy-five miles from here. Luckily the roads are fairly straight."

Chantry groaned. "Two days hard march at the least," she said, "assuming we encounter no troubles on the road. We need horses."

"We can get them at Leilon," Kelleth said. "I suggest we stay the night there and set off early in the morning."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Their exit from the stables was hasty enough almost to be called full flight. "Sorry," Kelleth called to the stableman. "It didn't occur to us that there'd be a problem. Sorry!"

"Bloody fools," the stableman shouted back. "You come in here with a bleedin' leopard and a weird sort of dragon-y thing and you don't realize you'll frighten the horses? Call yourself a ranger? You're an idiot."

"Sorry," Kelleth called again, and they beat a retreat along the street. Silent Stalker kept looking over his shoulder, and licking his lips, but he obeyed his master and padded along at Kelleth's heels.

"So, no horses," Chantry moaned. "It's going to be a long hard slog on foot."

"No further than we often trekked in Samarach," Kelleth said. "You made no complaint then. It is cooler here, and the roads are better, and surely the trip will be more pleasant."

"Oh, fuck off," Chantry said, unable to think of a witty retort.

"I must confess I am not altogether displeased," Umoja said. "I have never ridden a horse and it did not occur to me that they were so… energetic."

"They're not, usually," Kelleth said. "I'm sure we could have found you a nice, placid, beast that you could have just sat on while we led it along. Unfortunately our animals rather spoiled that plan." He pointed along a side street. "The inn is just down there. I hope they don't have a rule against pets…"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"The roads ain't safe," the innkeeper told the group, as he dished out their food. "Bandits, bands of orcs, ogres, even packs of huge wolves. Nobody dares to travel except in a large party these days."

"I know things were bad immediately after the war," Kelleth said, "but we've been away three months. I would have thought things would have settled down by now."

"Aye, you'd've thought so," the innkeeper said, "but it ain't happened. The Greycloaks do their best, I reckon, but there ain't as many of them as there used to be. Reckon too many of them got killed in the war. I hear the bandits will lay for them, on purpose like, instead of running away like they used to. Things are bad in these parts and no mistake." He moved on to answer the call of another patron and left the party to their meal.

"It looks as if our journey to Crossroad Keep might not be as straightforward as we had hoped," Kelleth remarked.

"Nothing is ever straightforward," Chantry said. "We should be used to it by now." She glanced across to the end of the room furthest from the fire, where a pair of bards were performing, and grimaced. They were, at best, mediocre. Old-fashioned balladry with lute accompaniment. Not what she called rock and roll.

A stranger approached their table. A man clad in a tunic of red and gold, with a broad-brimmed hat perched on his head despite it being indoors, whose sharp features and pointed ears indicated that he had elven blood. A lute was slung over his back. He held a brimming goblet of ale in one hand.

"Excuse me," said the half-elf, "did I hear you say you were traveling to Crossroad Keep?"

"You did," Kelleth replied.

"What's it to you?" Thorpe asked bluntly.

"I too am heading north," said the half-elf, "but the roads are overly perilous for a lone traveler these days. I wonder, might I travel in company with your party?"

Kelleth looked him up and down. "Perhaps," he said, "but first we must know more of you. And I must point out that we will be walking. Horses do not, it seems, tolerate the company of our animal companions."

"I have traveled the Realms on foot for many years," the half-elf said, "and I have no objection to walking some more. I am Finch, a bard by trade, and I am bound for Neverwinter."

Chantry pricked up her ears. She recognized that name. She slipped her fingers into her pouch and, moving slowly so as not to attract attention, extracted the vial of Chokemist poison. She'd hung onto it, after using it to develop an immunizing agent, and Kelleth had forgotten to renew his request for her to destroy it. By now its potency would have diminished, as the deadly substance degraded, but there should still be more than enough left to kill one man…

"Join us," Kelleth invited, "and tell us more. Are you traveling to Neverwinter for a particular purpose?"

"I am," said the bard. "I am to play a concert there, at the end of the month, at the Theater on the Lake, but there are… complications." He set his drink down on the table, adjusted the position of his lute so that it wouldn't strike the back of the chair, and sat down. More or less opposite Chantry.

"Complications?" Kelleth probed.

"I was doing a residency stint at the Wailing Wench, making drinking money and building up interest for the concert," Finch related, "and then a woman happened. A beauty came to see me after a performance and asked for a somewhat… personal encore. Had I known she was married…" He gave a roguish smile. "I did not, however, and things became, shall we say, interesting. And then her husband found out."

"Ah," said Kelleth, "the complications."

"Indeed so," Finch said. "He is a noble of some influence. I had a similar unfortunate experience in Cormyr, where the husband set bounty hunters after me, and I had to flee for my life. I expected something along the same lines this time and I vacated the city with all speed."

"Which is why you're at the far end of the country," Kelleth said. "I take it, as you're going back, there isn't really a bounty on your head this time?"

"No, the husband found a different way of striking at me," Finch said. "He has accused me of stealing an Earth-made timepiece from him. Ridiculous. I steal hearts, not clockwork. I am confident that, if I am given a chance to speak in my defense, I can clear my name."

"Oh?" Thorpe raised his eyebrows. "Out of professional interest – how? Hard to prove you didn't take something, especially now you've been way out of the city and had plenty of chances to fence it."

"He will not have disposed of it, I'm certain," Finch said. He paused to swig at his beer. "I have a spell that can locate it," he went on. "If it is still in his house, and I'm sure it will be, then I cannot have stolen it, can I?"

"Unless you'd broken back in to plant it," Thorpe said, "but, yeah, that would probably get you off the hook."

"Exactly," said Finch. He wiped froth away from his upper lip. "There is a snag, of course. My permit to enter Neverwinter has been revoked."

"Permit? To enter Neverwinter?" Aysgarth's fingers went to his beard. "What do you mean?"

"You don't know? Lord Nasher declared martial law a couple of months back. Entry into the city is restricted. Only Neverwinter natives can enter freely. Everyone else, which unfortunately includes me, must apply for an entry pass. As mine has been revoked I won't even be able to go into the city to plead my case – and I won't be able to meet my commitment to play at the concert, which will damage my reputation. Unless," he looked at Kelleth and smiled, "some reputable citizen was to talk Sir Nevalle into reissuing my pass at least temporarily."

"We'll see," Kelleth said. "We'll certainly be visiting the city eventually. I'll decide what I do about your pass once I get to know you better."

"I assure you, once you've heard me play you'll see how important my concert is," Finch said.

"Oh?" Kelleth gestured toward the other side of the room. "How do you compare with the entertainers at this inn?"

Finch turned in his chair, looked at the singing duo, and laughed.

Chantry put her hand to her mouth and sucked in the contents of the poison phial. She reached across the table, picked up Finch's beer goblet, and sipped at the drink.

"Those two?" Finch said. "They do their best, I suppose, and they're able to hold a tune passably, but to compare them to me is like… comparing a first-year Academy student to Khelben Blackstaff."

Chantry swirled the beer around her mouth and, instead of swallowing, spat it – and the mouthful of poison – back into the goblet. Swiftly she returned the drink to its original position. She didn't look around to see if anyone had noticed anything; that would be a give-away in itself. Instead she picked up her own beer and took a hearty drink. If someone, probably Thorpe with his sharp thief-trained eyes, had seen her drinking from Finch's goblet they'd think she'd simply made a mistake and corrected herself immediately. At least she hoped they'd think that.

Finch turned back to the table, too late to see Chantry's actions, and resumed his conversation with the others. His gaze never rested on Chantry's face for more than a fraction of a second. Hardly surprising, really, considering his religion…

That suited her just fine. She tucked into her meal, staying out of the conversation, and made no objection when Kelleth agreed that Finch could travel with them as far as Crossroad Keep.

After all, it wasn't going to happen.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

They were much later setting off than they had planned. The turmoil in the inn, when Finch was found dead in his bed, had delayed them.

Chantry moaned and complained, of course, but inside she was both delighted and relieved. In the cold light of day she recognized that her impulsive action had been far too risky. She should never have done it, not when there was so little to gain other than personal satisfaction. One less Sunite in the world was a desirable end result, certainly, but if she'd been found out she might have been hanged. As it had turned out, however, no-one had suspected her for a moment. It looked like a natural death, one of the advantages of Chokemist, and those few who did suspect foul play pinned the blame on an assassin hired by the cuckolded Lord.

Finch turned out to have enough more than enough gold in his possessions to pay for a Raise Dead scroll. Luckily, at least from Chantry's point of view, the fairly junior local priest didn't think to combine it with a Neutralize Poison and Finch stayed dead. A verdict of Death By Natural Causes was announced and, four hours behind schedule, Kelleth's party was able to leave for Crossroad Keep.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"I've just thought of another disadvantage to traveling with a leopard and a dinosaur," Chantry remarked, an hour out of Leilon.

Yushai turned his head and looked at her. It was difficult to read the facial expressions of a carnivorous dinosaur, except of course for the one where he opened his jaws and prepared to rend the flesh of his prey, but Chantry thought that he looked somehow reproachful. "There are a lot of advantages, of course, especially when the dinosaur is as cute as Yushai," she added, "but you can't deny that there might just be one or two little… snags."

"You mean besides us not being able to buy horses?" Kelleth said.

"It's… a related disadvantage," Chantry said. "If we meet any other travelers on the road, and they're riding, their horses are going to stampede. We're not exactly going to win friends and influence people."

"I'm sure skilled riders will be able to control their horses," Kelleth said, "as long as we don't get too close."

"Yes, well, we'd better keep our eyes open to make sure we don't turn a corner and bump right into a cavalcade of people on skittish horses," Chantry said. "Or, just as bad, a merchant caravan."

"We'll be watching out for bandits anyway," Kelleth said. "I don't want _anyone_ to surprise us. I'll bear your point in mind, though, and perhaps we might turn aside from the road if we see riders approaching."

"Yushai has eyes that match those of an eagle," Umoja said. "In open country he will give us ample warning of any who approach or who lie in wait."

Half an hour later he proved it.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"_I'm gonna be the man who's coming home with you_," Chantry sang, as they walked.

"_And I would walk five hundred miles_

_And I would walk five hundred more_

_Just to be–_"

"Hush!" Umoja commanded, and held up his hand in an imperative gesture. Chantry chopped her song off short.

"Yushai sees something," Umoja announced. "That copse of trees, there," and he pointed into the distance. "Figures move within it. They are keeping the trees between themselves and something that approaches along the road."

"An ambush in the making," Kelleth said. "Any idea who the two groups are?"

"Not at this distance," Umoja replied, "except that Yushai thinks some of those who are hiding are larger than men."

"Most probably monsters, then," Kelleth said. "There are no friendly giant-types anywhere remotely near here. And those on the road?"

Umoja shook his head. "Yushai can see only the dust thrown up by their feet," he said.

"We should quicken our pace," Kelleth said. "It's probably a caravan, or a Greycloak patrol, and I don't want to arrive too late to do anything but bury the dead." He suited his actions to his words and set off at a quick march. Silent Stalker loped along at his heels and Yushai prowled ahead. The human members of the party kept pace with Kelleth, although Chantry had to work hard, but the two halflings had to break into a trot to keep up.

"Greycloaks," Kelleth said, a few minutes later. "It's a Greycloak patrol on the high road and a mixed bunch, orcs or humans with some ogres, waiting for them." He gritted his teeth. "They're outnumbered and they'll be taken by surprise. It'll be a massacre."

"We will not arrive in time to intervene," Umoja judged.

"Oh yes we will," Kelleth said. "Aysgarth – Haste us."

"We'll arrive too tired to fight effectively," Aysgarth warned.

"I don't care," Kelleth said. "I'm not going to just watch them die."

"I can counter the tiredness," Chantry said. "Do it, Aysgarth. Those bandits won't know what hit them. For Neverwinter!"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Kelleth wiped ogre blood off his scimitar, sheathed it, and bent over a fallen Greycloak. "Chantry, over here!" he called. "He's in a bad way."

Chantry hastened to the wounded man and cast a spell. It had an immediate effect and the Greycloak stirred. "He'll be fine," Chantry said. She turned away from him and rubbed her hands together. "Okay, let's loot the bandit corpses."

"Chantry? Chantry Linton?" The Greycloak captain strode toward her. He removed his helm, revealing a smiling face, and looked her up and down. "I haven't seen you for ages. Why, it might even be years! You're an adventuring priestess now, I see, and it looks as if you're doing well. Love the armor, very stylish."

Chantry stared at him. "Tolbrik?" she said, in a small voice.

"As ever was," the captain replied. His smile grew wider. "So, Chantry, how is the prettiest girl in Neverwinter these days? Are you married yet, or is there still a chance for me?"

"Oh gods." Chantry's shoulders slumped. "Oh, my goddess."

Tolbrik's smile faded away. "What's wrong? You don't seem pleased to see me. How have I offended you?"

"Prettiest girl in Neverwinter?" Aysgarth said to Kelleth, keeping his voice low. "_Chantry_?"

Chantry heard him, despite his attempt to speak quietly, and detected the incredulity in his voice. She drew herself up to her full height. "Married yet, you ask, Tolbrik?" she said, her voice rising as she spoke. She snatched off her helmet and shook her hair away from her face. "You think anyone would marry _this_?"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Disclaimer: 'Storm of Zehir' is the property of Atari, Obsidian Entertainment, and Wizards of the Coast Inc. Song lyrics quoted are from 'I Don't Want A Lover' by Texas and '500 Miles' by The Proclaimers; used without permission of the copyright holders.


	7. The Seer

**Chapter Seven: The Seer**

_She told me of the famous sons who write their names in peace  
Yet be cut down before the time has come for our release  
Just as I tell you here  
Even now I wait for the coming day  
Even now she waits in the dawn  
For the tales she tells, for the gifts that she will sell  
For the sight she knows, for a vision that still grows  
With the dream in her eyes no one's seen_

(Big Country, _The Seer_)

They reached Fort Locke shortly after nightfall. The garrison was a token force, only a fraction of what it had been before the Shadow War, and the living soldiers were outnumbered four to one by the fresh graves in the field outside the palisade.

At least it provided somewhere safe to spend the night. They ate and then took to their beds immediately, with little conversation, and rose before dawn. An early start was essential if they were to reach Crossroad Keep that day.

They marched hard, all day long, eating on the move and barely engaging in conversation. That suited Chantry just fine. She wasn't in the mood. She didn't even sing as they walked.

In the whole day they encountered only one merchant caravan, surrounded by double the usual complement of guards, and a single patrol of Greycloaks. A pack of wolves approached them, in the afternoon, but turned away and left without attacking. Other than that the day passed entirely without incident.

"This isn't right," Kelleth commented, as the sun dipped below the horizon. "The High Road was busier than this even during the troubled times that preceded the start of the Shadow War. It looks as if the innkeeper was right about the state of the roads. Something is badly wrong in Neverwinter."

"All the trade could be going by ship, matey," Lastri suggested.

"Between Neverwinter and Waterdeep, possibly," Aysgarth said, "but Leilon, for instance, has no port. The inland towns rely on caravans. We should be seeing more of them."

"Maybe it's just a slack time," Chantry suggested.

"Don't be bloody daft," Thorpe said. "It's never this slack."

Chantry shrugged. "I'm a city girl. I've never needed to know how the merchants operate outside Neverwinter."

"Trade is the lifeblood of the country," Aysgarth said, stroking his beard. "If it stops the cities will dwindle and die."

"In that case it's a good thing Sa'Sani is here," Chantry said. "Well, assuming she is here and that the malfunctioning portal didn't dump her in Luskan, or into a volcano, or whatever."

"We'll soon find out," Kelleth said. He pointed ahead to where a tower and a row of battlements loomed on the horizon. "Crossroad Keep."

"Thanks for pointing it out," Chantry said. "I'd never have noticed the great big castle on top of a rocky hill if you hadn't been kind enough to show me."

"I'm a ranger," Kelleth said. "Guiding city people through the wilderness is my job."

Chantry wasn't sure if Kelleth was being sarcastic or not. She much preferred sarcasm when it was coming from her and so she ignored his comment and trudged on in silence. Eventually, as the sun was dipping below the horizon, they reached the castle gates.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"The merchant house is closed," the guard told them. His gaze kept flipping between the human party members and the two exotic animal companions. "Out of business. Blokes what ran it buggered off somewhere, didn't pay their dues, and Khelgar shut the place down."

"Has Lady Sa'Sani not had it re-opened, then?" Aysgarth asked.

"That foreign bird? Nah, she wanted to, had a right ding-dong with Khelgar about it, but he wasn't going to get fooled again." The guard pointed across the courtyard. "She's staying in the inn."

"Thanks," Kelleth said. He led the way toward the Phoenix Tail Inn, sited in the outer castle courtyard, but then something caught his eye and he veered aside. He halted beside a fenced-off area in which were several headstones and a small clump of saplings. "They must have retrieved the bodies," he said. He took off his feathered headdress and bowed his head.

Chantry read the engraved legends on the gravestones. 'Elanee of Merdelain. May you hug trees in peace with Mielikki.' 'Neeshka. The best back-stabbing tiefling there ever was'. 'Bishop. He was a bastard but he was our bastard'. 'Qara. It's better to burn out than fade away'. 'Grobnar Gnomehands. Bloody awful bard but a good comrade'. 'Zhjaeve. _Know_ that she rests in peace.'

"Rather unusual epitaphs," Chantry commented.

"Khelgar must have chosen them," Kelleth said. "There is no stone for Casavir. Does that mean he survived?"

"Perhaps," Aysgarth said. "We will ask later."

"Were these fallen comrades of yours?" Umoja asked.

"No," Kelleth replied. "They were heroes of Neverwinter, the companions of the great Knight-Captain, who fell in the final battle against the King of Shadows. I was never in that league. I met them, briefly, and I fought alongside Casavir, against the orc tribes in the mountains around Old Owl Well, but I was only a foot-soldier in his forces. I hope he's still alive." He started to raise the headdress and then reconsidered. "I hardly need this here," he said. "There's no jungle within a thousand miles." Instead of donning it again he folded it up carefully and packed it away. "Very well, on to the inn."

Sa'Sani, accompanied by Nas'Sirin, Volo, and a young woman unknown to Chantry, was sitting at a table in the inn's main room. She spotted the party as soon as they entered and at once came to her feet.

"Where have you been?" she snapped, pushing away her chair and striding over to meet them. "I expected you two days ago."

"The portal malfunctioned," Kelleth told her. "We came out in a crypt down near the southern border. The past two days have been spent in marching hard."

Sa'Sani dipped her head. "Forgive me my harsh words," she said. "I have been… anxious. You have the pearls?"

"Of course, my Lady," Kelleth said. He produced the leather pouch containing the precious items and handed it over.

Sa'Sani looped the pouch's strings onto her belt without bothering to check the contents. "Thank you," she said. "Now to thrust these under the nose of that obstinate dwarf!"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Wow! A real dinosaur!"

Chantry's attention had been concentrated on the legendary Khelgar Ironfist but she swung her gaze away as she heard the comment. She saw a slim and attractive girl, of around her own height, with long chestnut-brown hair and wide-set eyes. The girl wore black breeches, tucked into high boots, and a jerkin of what looked like black dragon leather over a green silk shirt. She approached Yushai, moving slowly, with a broad smile on her pretty face.

"Careful, Joy, it's a velociraptor," a second female voice warned. "You know, like in _Jurassic Park_."

The first girl rolled her eyes, which Chantry could now see were a piercing blue, and replied in scornful tones. "Spielberg got it way wrong, Sis. Velociraptors were much smaller in real life than in the movie. This is a larger species; _Deinonychus_ maybe, or _Achillobator_."

"Yushai is indeed of the kind known as Deinonychus by your people," Umoja confirmed. "You know more about dinosaurs than most Northerners."

"My sister the dinosaur nerd," said the second girl, rolling her eyes. She was several inches shorter than her sister, probably no more than five feet tall, and had blonde hair. She wore no armor but was bedecked with weapons; a hammer hung from her belt at the right, a sword was sheathed at the left, and the hilt of a second sword rose above her right shoulder.

The tales of the Shadow War told of three female warriors, other than the Knight-Captain and her companions, based at Crossroad Keep. Kana, Captain of the Guard, was of Shou heritage and therefore hardly likely to be blonde; Katriona had been Casavir's lieutenant at Old Owl Well and presumably would know Kelleth, whereas this girl had not reacted to him at all; Chantry deduced, by elimination, that the blonde must be the renowned sword-mistress known as Light of Heavens. She who had destroyed the vampire horde at the gates of the Keep.

Umoja continued to talk to the two girls about his favorite subject, dinosaurs, but Chantry switched her attention back to Khelgar and to her employer.

"Master Khelgar," Sa'Sani was saying, "I insist that you allow me to re-open the trading post."

Khelgar hooked his thumbs into his belt and drew himself up to his full height of four foot six. "We've been through this before, Lady Sa'Sani," he said. "Your men made a lot of fancy promises and didn't deliver on any of them. Nobody makes a fool out of Khelgar Ironfist twice."

"If I make a promise I keep it," Sa'Sani said. "I told you I will bring prosperity to your castle and I shall do so."

"Why should I believe you?" Khelgar asked. "What makes you different from them?"

"I am prepared to purchase the buildings outright, if necessary, rather than merely leasing them," Sa'Sani said. "That way you cannot lose."

Khelgar shook his head. "I'm not taking any of those fancy trade bars from a foreign country, lady. They could be worthless for all I know."

"I will pay you in gold," Sa'Sani said. "I think these will prove I will have no difficulty in raising any amount necessary. "She unhooked the pouch from her belt and held it out.

Khelgar took the pouch, opened it, and peered in. "Pretty stones," he said, pouring a few out onto his palm and peering at them. "I've not seen the like before. Maybe they're worth a lot, but maybe they're not. I'm not taking your word for their value. If Neeshka was here… but she's dead."

"Joy," said Light of Heavens, "maybe you should take a look."

"On it," said the younger girl, breaking off from petting Yushai. She joined Khelgar and held out a hand. The gruff dwarf raised his eyebrows, tipped the loose pearls back into the bag, and passed it over. Joy walked over to a table, took a square of black velvet from a pouch in her belt, and spread it out. She carefully tipped the contents of the bag out onto the cloth, produced a lens from her pouch, and scrutinized the pearls thoroughly. Her eyes widened and she gave a low whistle.

"Rassatan golden pearls," she declared. "Finer than the best I ever saw when we were in Athkatla. Amnian merchants would sell their mothers into slavery to get their hands on these." Her fingers blurred into action, arranging the pearls in lines of ten, and she counted up the lines. "They're worth a fortune, Khelgar," she announced. "I could get at least quarter of a million for them in Amn, no question; maybe three hundred thousand in Waterdeep or Baldur's Gate."

Khelgar's eyebrows climbed, almost up to where his hairline would have been had he not been nearly bald, and his eyes widened. "Aye, that changes things," he said. "With that kind of money to operate with maybe you can live up to your fine words. I'll not sell you the building, mind, I've not the authority, but I'll grant you the lease. Ten thousand nobles for two years, shall we say?"

"With an option to renew, at the same price, at the end of the period," Sa'Sani said. "That is acceptable."

"It's a deal, then," said Khelgar. "I'll have the place opened up for you right away. Give the lady her pearls back, lassie." He watched as Joy gathered up the pearls. "Mind," he warned Sa'Sani, "Neverwinter's not the best place for trading right now. The roads are infested with bandits and the like, more than the Greycloaks can handle, and unless you've a tough crew you're going to be robbed blind. Caravan guards and the like aren't going to be up to the job."

"Then it is a good thing my men are no mere caravan guards," Sa'Sani said. "Kelleth Gill and his comrades have proven themselves to be more than capable of handling whatever they come up against."

Khelgar turned his attention to Kelleth's group. "Kelleth Gill, eh? Thought you looked familiar, laddie. One of Casavir's lads, up in the mountains, right? I remember, now, you killed an orc I had marked out as mine. Aye, lady, he's a good man. With a wizard, a priestess, a thief, and a…" Khelgar's brow furrowed as his gaze passed over Umoja, "…shaman with trained fighting beasties. A well-balanced party. If the others are up to Kelleth's standard they'll have no problem dealing with the bandits."

"They are," Kelleth confirmed.

"Indeed so," Sa'Sani said. "Formidable and utterly trustworthy. They have proven themselves to be a far greater asset to my business than any mere pouch of pearls."

"You do us too much honor, Lady Sa Sani," Kelleth said.

Chantry was highly tempted to ask for a pay rise but held her tongue. She wondered about the value of the pearls. Sa'Sani had told them, when ordering them to collect and transport the precious gems, that they were worth fifty thousand lions. Joy, who seemed to know her business, had valued them at over five times that figure. Was Joy in error, were the pearls so much more expensive on mainland Faerûn than in Samarach, or had Sa'Sani deliberately undervalued them to reduce temptation?

"Sir Khelgar," Kelleth asked, "is there any word of Casavir's fate?"

"Don't call me 'Sir', laddie," Khelgar told him. "I'm no knight. There's only one Knight-Captain of Crossroad Keep and it's not me. I'm just keeping the place warm for her. No, there's no definite word of Casavir. We've excavated the mound pretty thoroughly, by now, but there was no sign of him. Nor of Amon Jerro. We found all the other bodies but what happened to those two is a mystery."

"And the Knight-Captain?"

Khelgar glared at him. "Have you not heard?"

"We've been away from Neverwinter for three months," Kelleth explained, "and our time since we returned has been spent in forced march. Pretty much the only news we have heard, since our return, is that the city of Neverwinter has been placed under martial law."

"Ah, I see. She was carried off, unconscious, by some sort of flying beasties. I gave chase, of course, but they got away." He sighed deeply. "I've posted a reward of ten thousand nobles for any information but we've had no response."

"She's not dead, I know that much," Light of Heavens put in. "I'd have felt it if she died. I felt it when…" Her lips set into a tight line, her head drooped, and her eyes glistened with moisture. Joy went to her side and laid a hand upon her shoulder.

The atmosphere of grief and loss in the room was almost tangible. Chantry tried to imagine how she'd feel if Aysgarth, Thorpe, and Umoja had been killed and Kelleth was missing. A cold shiver ran down her back. That, presumably, was how Khelgar and the others in this castle felt all the time.

For a long minute no-one spoke. Sa'Sani was the one to break the silence.

"Master Khelgar," she said, "my employees have been on the road all day and are, no doubt, hungry and weary. Will the merchant building be ready for us to occupy tonight?"

Khelgar pursed his lips. "Well, it's been kept clean and dusted," he said, "but I think the bed-linen and the like is all packed away. And you'll have to find your own staff. I can maybe lend you a cook for a few days, to get you started, but that's all."

"The matter of staff is already in hand," Sa'Sani replied, "and, as an interim measure, Kelleth and his comrades can eat in the inn."

"We can lay out our bedrolls in the merchant house, if there is no room in the inn, and if the beds are not ready," Kelleth said. "It will be better than sleeping under the stars."

"The inn is indeed full," Sa'Sani said. "A troupe of entertainers, a company of adventurers, and a band of mercenaries occupy all the available beds. Nas'Sirin has been forced to share a room with Volo, and complains about this incessantly, whereas I am sharing a room with a… somewhat eccentric elven priestess."

'Either you're not sleeping with Volo after all,' Chantry thought, 'or else you are but are keeping it from Nas'Sirin. I wonder which?'

"Ah. Sorry about that. I'll make sure there's at least one room fit for you tonight." Khelgar raised his right hand to his beard and tugged on it. "Tell you what, Lady Sa'Sani. Why don't you and your lads dine with us at the Keep?"

"Khelgar," Joy put in, "you do remember the diplomats from Sembia and Waterdeep are going to be at dinner tonight, don't you?"

"Aye, I know," Khelgar said. "They'll be boring me stupid with chatter about trade and tariffs and such." His eyes glittered shrewdly beneath his heavy eyebrows and the corners of his mouth quirked up. "It seems to me that's the sort of thing that would be much more to Lady Sa'Sani's taste than mine. If she keeps them occupied maybe I can have a natter with Kelleth, here, about fighting orcs in the mountains."

Sa'Sani smiled. "A win for both of us, then, for such a conversation could well provide me with opportunities for, shall we say, commercial advantage. We shall, then, join you for the evening meal."

"Come over at nine," Khelgar said. "That'll give your lads time to clean up." He shot a glance at Yushai and Silent Stalker. "Hope your beasties will behave themselves. We're used to animals, Elanee had a badger and Bishop had a mangy old wolf, but they were small enough to fit under the table. Yours are a fair bit bigger. Will they be happy to sit in a corner with a haunch of venison each?"

"They'll be fine," Kelleth said. "Thank you, Khelgar."

"Perhaps I should eat at the inn," Chantry volunteered.

"Don't be daft, lass," Khelgar said. "Any friend of Kelleth is a friend of mine. You're invited."

On another day Chantry might simply have taken off her helm and made her point through the shock effect. Today she couldn't be bothered. "My face is badly disfigured," she said. "Eating wearing a helmet is something of an ordeal and if I don't wear it I'll put your other guests off their food."

"Hmm." Khelgar's jaw jutted out and his beard bristled. "I passed the Trial of the Even-Handed, lassie, and I've learned not to judge others by their appearance. If the ambassadors haven't learned the same lesson, well, then they're not fit to be ambassadors. Take off your helm and let me see for myself."

Chantry shrugged. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." She removed her helmet and looked Khelgar in the eye.

He met her gaze without flinching. "I'll not lie and say you're a pretty sight, girl," he said, "but you'll not put a dwarf off his food."

"That… has to suck," Light of Heavens said. "What did that to you? Dragon breath?"

"The Wailing Death plague," Chantry explained. "And, before you ask, there's no way of fixing it. The cure came too late and the damage is permanent."

"I guess you'd know," Light of Heavens said. "I, uh, suck at saying appropriate things. I guess you'll have heard them all anyway." She shot a glance at Khelgar, who nodded, and then turned back to Chantry. "Your invitation to dinner stands."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"I have an important mission for you," Sa'Sani said, as they departed from the castle keep. "On the morrow I want you to set out for Neverwinter. Visit the headquarters of the three major trading factions; the Circle of Friends, the Forgotten Lords, and the Fated Winds. Choose one to join; I leave the decision as to which one up to you."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Thorpe. "We're not exactly experts in the field of commerce. Our usual way of making money is 'kill the bad guy, loot the body, and fence the goodies'. That's as far as our experience goes."

"You are the local experts," Sa'Sani said. "You know the way things are done in Neverwinter. That will suffice."

"Well, actually I'm from Gullykin, near Baldur's Gate," Thorpe said, "but I've been around Neverwinter for the past three years. Okay, point taken."

"Ask for news of my missing associates," Sa'Sani went on. "It is likely that they have had dealings with one or more of the factions." She paused and looked around, saw that there were several passers-by within hearing range and most of them had halted to stare at the dinosaur, and then continued. "I shall give you more detailed instructions tomorrow, in private."

"Certainly, my Lady," said Kelleth.

"Sure thing," said Thorpe. "You're paying us so you call the shots."

They had reached a fork in the path, where the inn lay to their left and the way to the merchant building went off to the right, and Sa'Sani came to a halt. "You'd better come with me," she said. "Khelgar said you were to clean up, before dinner, but I doubt if there will be hot water at the merchant house. If you want to bathe, and to change, it will have to be at the inn."

"We're a little short of clothes for a formal evening," Kelleth said, "but it will do no harm to get rid of the dirt from the trail."

"Indeed so," Sa'Sani said. "Follow me."

Once inside the inn Chantry saw Captain Lastri, who had not accompanied them into the keep, sitting on a bar stool and drinking from a tankard. Volo and Nas'Sirin sat at a table, steaming plates of food in front of them, and Volo rose to his feet on seeing Sa'Sani.

"My Lady Sa'Sani," he said, "we have started our meal without you, for we knew not how long you would be. Forgive us for this discourtesy."

"Don't worry about it," Sa'Sani said. "I will be dining with Master Khelgar at the castle. As will my redoubtable band of warriors." She gestured at Kelleth's group. "At last things begin to go well."

"This is unseemly," Nas'Sirin grumbled. "To invite mere hired killers to join you at the table of the local Lord is… insulting. You jeopardize everything we are trying to achieve."

"On the contrary," Sa'Sani said. "Kelleth is an honored guest. He served under one of Khelgar's comrades, and fought alongside Khelgar against the orcs, and I suspect that I owe my invitation to his presence rather than the reverse. This is not our homeland. They do things differently here. You would do well to take note."

Nas'Sirin frowned. "You will do things your own way, as always," he said, "but I believe we should follow the customs of Samarach."

"We must respect the local customs if we are to prosper here," Sa'Sani said.

"When in Waterdeep, do as the Waterdhavians do," Chantry put in.

"Exactly," Sa'Sani said. "Take heed, Nas'Sirin."

"Very well, Lady Sa'Sani, I will obey," Nas'Sirin said. He glowered at Chantry briefly and then returned to his meal.

"You… it is you!" An exclamation rang out across the dining room. "I have seen you in my dreams."

The speaker was an elven woman, thin even by the standards of her slender race and with grey hair, who was approaching them with her eyes fixed on Kelleth.

"This," Sa'Sani said, "is the woman with whom I have been sharing a room. She is, as I said, somewhat eccentric to say the least."

"Ah, can I help you?" Kelleth asked.

"I came here," the elf woman said, "all the way from Evermeet, because my goddess – bless the name of Angharradh – sent me. A dire fate awaits the elven race if I did not find you, she said – indeed, _all_ the races."

"Oh, crap," Kelleth said. "I'm not part of some stupid prophecy, am I?" He glanced at Chantry. "First you, and now her."

"No, I do not think so," the elf replied. "It was not fate that brought you here that I can divine. Nonetheless, the Goddess tells me you are positioned such that your deeds affect factors beyond your ken – and I must be here to aid you."

"Uh, thanks," said Kelleth.

"Allow me to travel with you," the elf went on. "My spear is yours, to aid you as you see fit. That you live, that you do what you feel you must whenever it is that the time comes – if the time does come – that is all I ask."

"What can you do besides wield a spear?" Kelleth asked.

"I am a skilled healer," she replied, "and have many spells that can aid you against the enemies that will face you."

"We already have a healer. Two, in fact," Kelleth said. "I don't think we need another. I'll stick with the ones I know. Thanks, but no thanks."

The elf turned her head to stare at Chantry. "I have seen you in my dreams too, priestess of Talona," she said, "screaming in agony as a snake with arms holds a metal rod against the back of your neck."

"Thanks for the warning," Chantry said. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen."

"There is no avoiding what fate has in store for you," the elf warned.

"In that case prophecies would be pointless," Chantry said. "My goddess sent me to join Kelleth and I got here first. You're not going to scare me off."

"That was not my intention," said the elf woman. "What will be, will be." She turned back to Kelleth. "I will wait. The time will come when you will turn to me in your need. Farewell."

"Well, that was… cheerful," Chantry said, as the elf departed.

"Worrying, rather," said Kelleth.

"I was being sarcastic," Chantry said. "Now, about that bath..."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

She was clean, she had brushed her hair until it shone like polished gold, and she wore a gorgeous silken gown she had purchased in Samargol. Heads turned as she entered the banqueting hall. The diplomats smiled, briefly, and then their gazes fell on her face and the smiles froze. Chantry was used to that reaction by now and it no longer made her want to kill them. Or at least not much.

Sa'Sani met with an entirely different reaction. The smiles of the diplomatic representatives were warm, genuine, and appreciative. Not surprisingly; she was elegantly and expensively dressed, very attractive in an exotic way (at least for a woman in her thirties, Chantry qualified her assessment), and spoke their language. As soon as Khelgar had completed his (rather cursory) introductions Sa'Sani was immediately engaged in a deep discussion with the two trade delegates.

Light of Heavens wore a figure-hugging black gown, slit up the sides up to mid-thigh level, sleeveless and leaving her shoulders bare. Chantry spotted a tattoo on each shoulder and recognized them as magical wards. One was the symbol for Free Action and the other was Immunity to Mind-Affecting Spells. An indication, perhaps, that Light of Heavens feared being taken prisoner more than she feared death? Or maybe those two designs had been on special offer at the tattoo parlor. An Earth watch, with a slim silver bracelet, adorned her left wrist. At her throat she wore a golden pendant, in the shape of a sunburst with a human face; the symbol of the dead god Amaunator. Despite the peacefulness of the occasion her long-sword rode at her hip.

Her sister Joy wore a blue version of the same gown. She had no visible tattoos, although she could have had some out of sight, and she was unarmed; at least at first sight. Chantry was moderately sure that the girl had at least one dagger under her skirts. Joy, too, wore an Earth watch unlike any Earth watch Chantry had ever seen on sale in Neverwinter. Not that she'd seen all that many, a dozen or so perhaps, but on the basis of that limited sample Joy's watch seemed noticeably inferior in style and quality. The band was a mere strip of pink cloth and the dial was decorated with a picture that Chantry, over the course of the evening, eventually recognized as a highly stylized representation of a cat's face.

Khelgar was resplendent in the formal tunic and cloak of a member of the Neverwinter Nine. His beard was neatly gathered into a single plait, held in place by a golden clasp, and around his waist was buckled the fabled Belt of Ironfist. The very image of a dwarven noble, at least on the surface, but it wasn't long before it was obvious to Chantry that he'd have been far more comfortable in dented armor, and a tabard stained with blood and beer, sitting in a cheap tavern quaffing ale. Although he was still doing the ale-quaffing part. Hardly had the group taken their seats before Khelgar and Kelleth were deep in reminiscence, recounting tales of splitting orcish skulls, and raising tankards to the remembered fallen.

With Sa'Sani and the diplomats wrapped up in a conversation about trade and tariffs, a subject that didn't interest Chantry in the slightest, that left the other members of her group to talk among themselves and to Joy and Light of Heavens.

"That elf woman was a bit bloody creepy," Thorpe remarked. "Seeing us in her dreams – well, seeing Kelleth and Chantry in her dreams – and they didn't sound nice. Think she was telling the truth?"

"We have told no-one here about our fights against Yuan-ti abominations," Aysgarth said, "and her description of the creature torturing Chantry matches them perfectly. I suspect she is, indeed a seer."

"We told Volo," Chantry pointed out. "He was staying in the inn with her and we know that talking is his favorite occupation. She could have found out from him."

"True," Aysgarth said, "yet I still suspect she was genuine and she really was sent by her goddess. You were, after all, and an interloper god would be of interest to more gods than just Talona."

"Who's that goddess 'Angharradh' she mentioned, anyway?" Thorpe asked. "Thought I knew all the elven gods but I've never heard of that one."

"She was the Triune Goddess of the elves," Chantry explained. "Sehanine Moonbow, Hanali Celanil, and Aerdrie Faenya merged into one to fight Araushnee – she who became Lolth. But that was more than ten thousand years ago and then they split apart again. I only know about it from my studies for the priesthood. I didn't know there were any worshippers of Angharradh left."

"The elf woman was pretty old," Thorpe said. "I've never seen an elf with grey hair before. Ten thousand years has to be pushing it, though, I didn't think they lived more than a thousand or two."

"You're wrong," Light of Heavens said. "Not about how long elves live, you're right about that, I mean about Angrybad. You'd better do the explain-y thing, Joy, you're much better at it than I am."

"Sure thing," Joy said. "Okay, it's a long story, but here's the short version. Lolth almost killed Hanali Celanil. To stop her dying the three goddesses merged together into one. Then, so that they could go back to being three separate goddesses again, they borrowed power off of the human goddesses most like them. Hanali merged with an aspect of Sune, Aerdrie with Akadi, and Sehanine Moonbow merged with part of Selûne. Angharradh split up again and things went back to pretty much the way they were."

"I didn't know that," Chantry said. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely certain," Joy said. Her voice held the ring of conviction. "Anyway, a little more than three years ago, that ended. Selûne needed to be a Greater Goddess again to vote against Shar in the Council of Greater Gods…"

"Lil jabar elg'caress," Light of Heavens muttered, vitriol in her tone. Chantry recognized the language as Drow; she knew only a few Drow words but one she did know was elg'caress. 'Bitch'.

"…so she pulled all her power out of Sehanine," Joy continued. "That destabilized the whole thing. Sune pulled out too, and then Akadi, and the elven goddesses had to coalesce again to survive. Angharradh's back. Probably permanently. I can't see Selûne, or Sune, giving up the power again."

"Neither can I," Chantry agreed. She stared directly into Joy's eyes. It seemed strange that such a young woman, who wasn't even a priestess, could be privy to the doings of the Council of Greater Gods. Her account, though, did fit with something that High Priestess Sumia had told Chantry once; back during the Plague War, when Sumia had accompanied the men from Earth and some of Neverwinter's elite fighters on their strike against the lair of the sarrukh leader Queen Morag, a priestess of Sehanine in the party had summoned a planar ally to fight Morag's guards. She had received, not one of Sehanine's planetars, but a Shard of Selûne in its place. And the Shard had attacked Sharwyn Laummyr, one of Shar's most influential worshippers, instead of Morag. That had been… in the month of Alturiak 1372. And it was Mirtul 1375 now. Three years three months. "Just how do you know all this?" Chantry asked.

"I'm not allowed to say," Joy said. "My source is trustworthy and in a position to know. That's all I can reveal."

Aysgarth stroked his beard between finger and thumb and stared at Joy. "Perhaps," he said, "you might be able to enlighten us on certain other matters. Do you know anything about an interloper god named Zehir?"

Joy and Light of Heavens exchanged glances and then shrugged in unison. "Not a damn thing," Joy said. "Should we?"

"In that case, let me enlighten you," Aysgarth said, and he began to recount the relevant parts of their adventures in Samarach. Chantry, Thorpe, and Umoja made contributions to the tale where appropriate.

Sa'Sani and the two diplomats, however, remained engrossed in mercantile matters. It seemed, from what Chantry caught of their discussion, that that Sa'Sani was proposing an expansion of the trade with Earth and the onward export of Earth goods to Waterdeep, Sembia, and elsewhere.

"Lord Nasher won't go for it," Khelgar put in, temporarily breaking off from his conversation with Kelleth. "He's never been keen on trading with Earth. I've no idea why."

"Oh, I can understand his reasons," Sa'Sani said. "From what I have heard I gather that Earth goods are better, and cheaper to produce, than anything your artisans and craftsmen can make. He feared that the locals would lose their livelihoods. What the Earth people want in return, potions and magic items, would benefit only the temples and the mages. An understandable cause for concern. However now you have had a plague and two major wars in rapid succession. Neverwinter need not fear unemployment. Skilled workers are in short supply. The situation has changed completely and Nasher should amend his attitude accordingly."

"Maybe so," Khelgar said. "Trade and suchlike isn't something I know anything about. If you could talk to him, and make your case, perhaps he'd change his mind – but he's not seeing anyone from outside Neverwinter right now." One of the castle servants was hovering at Khelgar's shoulder, clearing his throat to attract the dwarf's attention, and Khelgar at last acknowledged the man's presence. "Nasty cough you've got there, laddie. What do you want?"

"Master Khelgar," said the servant, "the minstrel band from the inn are at the door. They have heard that you are having an… entertainment and wonder if you might, perhaps, like them to play for your guests."

Khelgar grimaced. "Can't say that I'm overly keen on having them caterwauling in the background while we're trying to talk. I had enough of that with Grobnar. What do the rest of you think?"

"I have no objection," the Sembian ambassador said, "but neither have I any great desire for musical accompaniment to the meal. The conversation is quite enough to occupy my mind."

Light of Heavens shuddered. "I've heard them," she said, "and I'm so not impressed. The only good part of their act is the fire-eating."

"And that's cheating," Joy said. "The girl who does it is a Fire Genasi. It's not like she's going to get burned if she screws up."

"If it's not Rock music I'm not interested," Chantry said.

"No way is what they play Rock," Joy said. "Trust me on this."

Khelgar glanced around the other guests, pursed his lips, and turned back to the servant. "Tell them no thanks," he said. "Still, I feel a bit sorry for them. They can eat in the kitchens, if they like, to make up for not getting tips. If they've already eaten give them a free drink or two."

"Of course, Master Khelgar," the servant said, and departed.

"Now, where were we?" Khelgar said.

"We were talking about trading with Earth," Sa'Sani reminded him.

"That we were," said Khelgar. "I think I've said about all I can say about that. If it's all the same to you, Lady Sa'Sani, I'll go back to talking about battles with your laddie Kelleth."

Sa'Sani quirked an eyebrow upwards. "As you wish, Master Khelgar."

"One thing we totally should import from Earth," Light of Heavens said, "is coffee."

"And chocolate," Joy added.

"Well, yeah, that too," Light of Heavens said, "but it's more than five years since we've had Earth chocolate and I've gotten used to doing without. We only ran out of coffee a month ago and I'm still dealing with going cold turkey."

"Is Neverwinter out of coffee?" Chantry asked, horrified. She wondered, briefly, what turkey had to do with anything.

"They might have some in the city, maybe," Light of Heavens said, "but none of it is getting through to Crossroad Keep."

Chantry grimaced. "I have half a pound in my pack but that's all. If I'd known I'd have brought a lot more."

Sa'Sani smiled. "I did not know of the coffee shortage until I arrived, but I was aware that it is more expensive here than in Samargol, and consequently I brought a supply of coffee with me." She reached under her seat and picked up her reticule. "Now that we are, in a sense, partners I am willing to share. Allow me to provide a pound of coffee as my contribution to the evening."

Light of Heavens grinned broadly. "This," she said, "could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Chantry sipped at her breakfast coffee. Kelleth and Umoja had snatched a quick bite and gone out to walk their animal companions. The others, not having to cope with the demands of leopards and dinosaurs, were dining in a more leisurely fashion.

"This place is quite impressive," Chantry remarked to Sa'Sani. "It should be very comfortable, once the dust-sheets are off the furniture, and it looks as if it contains everything we need. Even an alchemy lab."

"And one suitable for a mage," said Aysgarth. "I haven't had time to carry out a proper inventory but at first glance it appears to have everything needed for enchanting weapons." He paused to sip at his coffee. "Is that a portal in the room along the corridor?"

"Indeed it is," Sa'Sani confirmed. "One thing that my subordinates Ilfoss and Kizu achieved, before they absconded, was to persuade Khelgar to move the Crossroad Keep portal from the keep itself to this building."

"Ah," said Aysgarth. "I suspect that the move is at the heart of the portal's malfunctioning."

"I'm surprised Khelgar went along with it," Chantry said.

"Probably he was uncomfortable with the idea of strangers being able to arrive in the keep without needing to pass the gates and guards," Aysgarth suggested. "This building might be inside the curtain wall but it's not exactly a vital part of the defenses."

"No doubt you are correct," Sa'Sani said. "Anyway, since it was moved here it has almost fallen out of use. Out of sight, out of mind. When I arrived here I found myself, and Nas'Sirin and Volo, in a deserted building with the doors locked. We had to hammer on the doors for some twenty minutes before we attracted attention and were let out."

"Unfortunate," Chantry said, "although probably better than our experience of ending up sharing a crypt with a mad dwarf necromancer."

"At least you could slay the mad dwarf," Sa'Sani said. "I had to put up with Nas'Sirin's complaints without being able to avail myself of such a means of silencing him."

Chantry laughed. "On the other hand he wasn't trying to kill you," she said, "and Volo was undoubtedly better company than the zombies."

"Certainly more talkative," Sa'Sani conceded, "and better looking."

"And with fewer bits falling off," Chantry said. She exchanged smiles with Sa'Sani. The Samarachan woman seemed to be much more approachable, and to be showing signs of a sense of humor, now that she was away from the restrictive atmosphere of Samarach and the coldly disapproving presence of Nas'Sirin. Chantry already respected her as an employer but now she felt that she might well like Sa'Sani as a person given a little more time to get to know her.

"Indeed so," Sa'Sani agreed. "It would be a shame if Volo's… bits fell off."

Aha! So Sa'Sani _was_ sleeping with Volo. Or, if she wasn't, at least she'd thought about it. Probing further on the subject, however, might not be a good idea as yet. It wouldn't do to jeopardize this new, friendlier, relationship by pushing things too quickly. Instead Chantry changed the subject.

"Lady Sa'Sani," she said, "when you sent us to collect the pearls, you told us that they were worth some fifty thousand gold coins. Joy, however, valued them at more than quarter of a million. She seemed to know her business and I am well aware that you know yours. Why was there such a discrepancy?"

"Her valuation was accurate," Sa'Sani confirmed. "I understated their value because I did not wish Nas'Sirin to hear just how much trust I was placing in you. He was bad enough when he thought they were worth fifty thousand. If he had known their true worth his moaning would have been quite unbearable. I did not wish to put up with it during our trek through the jungle."

"I see," Chantry said. She put down her coffee cup and sat up straight. "I thank you for the trust you have shown in us, Lady Sa'Sani," she said formally. "It shall not be misplaced."

"I also thank you, Lady Sa'Sani," Aysgarth said.

Thorpe, who had been too busy with the traditional halfling pastime of stuffing himself with enough food for two full-sized people to have taken any previous part in the conversation, swallowed his current mouthful and paused in his gorging long enough to add "That goes for me, too."

"Ah." Sa'Sani set down her cup and fidgeted with the sleeves of her gown for a moment. "Thank you," she said. "Really, it wasn't much of a leap of faith. It is obvious even on a brief acquaintance that your group adheres to a code of honor which, different as it may be from the mores of Samarach, makes you utterly trustworthy… in most circumstances. I would not, for instance, trust you, Chantry, to be alone in a room with Nas'Sirin for an hour without killing him. Nor would I leave Thorpe alone with an unguarded plate of grilled bacon. Or expect Kelleth to pronounce my name properly."

Chantry laughed out loud. "You know us too well, my Lady," she said. Thorpe almost choked on his food and had to take a hasty gulp of his coffee.

"I am beginning to, yes," Sa'Sani said. "Returning to the topic of the pearls, I have a further task for you involving them. When you go to Neverwinter, to affiliate my company with one of the merchant organizations, take the pearls with you. Deposit them with the financial authorities as backing for my trade bars and obtain the necessary certification for House Sa'Sani bars to be traded in the Sword Coast area."

Chantry raised her eyebrows. "I don't even know who the financial authorities are. If Lord Nasher handles that sort of thing himself we're out of luck, seeing as how he isn't seeing anyone these days, and if it isn't him I've no idea who it would be."

"Part of the Council, perhaps?" Aysgarth suggested. "Thorpe, do you know?"

"Not a clue, mate," Thorpe replied. "I don't even understand how trade bars work. I'd have thought it would be easier just to use coin."

"Perhaps we are the wrong people for this job, my Lady," Aysgarth said.

"Don't worry, I have hired a local equivalent of Osi," Sa'Sani told them, "and she will give you detailed instructions when she arrives. I expect her to be here shortly. She…" The sound of the merchant house front door opening came just as she spoke. "That will be her now," Sa'Sani said, and then she raised an eyebrow as her words were proved wrong. "Or not."

Instead of the expected accountant it was Kelleth and Umoja, with their animals following behind, who entered. They were accompanied by Light of Heavens and, seemingly, were in the middle of a conversation.

"Thanks a lot," Kelleth was saying. "I'll remember that move and practice it every day."

"Until it becomes second nature," said Light of Heavens. She turned away from him and faced Sa'Sani. "My Lady," she said, "if it's okay with you, Khelgar would like to borrow Kelleth for a while. And his companions, too, if you can spare them."

"I take it you mean for more than a few minutes," Sa'Sani said. "I wouldn't send the others to Neverwinter without Kelleth and therefore, if you take him, you might as well take the whole group. Depending, of course, on what it is that you want them for."

"You remember the minstrels from the inn?" Light of Heavens said. "It turns out they're not just minstrels. Last night, while we were eating, they stole the Gauntlets of Ironfist from Khelgar's room. He wears them most of the time but, well, not when he's dining. It gets expensive in crushed tankards otherwise."

Sa'Sani's brows lowered and she cocked her head to one side. "The… Gauntlets of Ironfist?"

"Heirlooms of the Clan Ironfist dwarves," Aysgarth explained, slipping into lecture mode. "Valuable because of the augmentation they give to the wearer's physical might, as great as that from a Girdle of Hill Giant Strength, but even more valuable because of their long history and association with the ancient dwarven kings."

"That's right," Light of Heavens confirmed. "Khelgar's tearing his hair out. Well, he would be if he had any. The minstrels left at first light, hours before Khelgar even knew the gauntlets were missing, and headed north-east. We sent a mounted patrol after them but they had too much of a start. The Greycloaks have just come back to say that they lost the trail at the edge of Neverwinter Wood."

"And you want Kelleth to track them down, I take it," Sa'Sani deduced.

Light of Heavens nodded. "That's right. We don't have any Rangers in the Keep any longer since the Knight-Captain's dad took off looking for her and Bishop… died. Khelgar's not bad in the woods but Nasher has strictly forbidden him to leave the castle for any reason. He'll go anyway, if he has to, but your guys could save him from getting, whatchacallit, cashiered for deserting his post. And me… I'm more your city girl."

"I can certainly spare them for a few days, in the circumstances," Sa'Sani said, "if they are willing. I can see that Kelleth is eager to go."

"Khelgar was sword-brother to my old commander," Kelleth said, "and one of Neverwinter's greatest heroes. Of course I want to help."

"Count me in," Aysgarth said, just beating Chantry to it.

"Thieves passing as bards, or bards moonlighting as thieves," Thorpe mused. "Either way, they'll have some good gear I could use. I'm in."

"I will accompany my comrades on this worthy mission," Umoja said. "And with me, of course, will come the mighty Yushai."

"To sniff them out, right?" asked Light of Heavens.

"No, Yushai and his breed hunt by sight, not by scent," Umoja said.

"It's the same with Silent Stalker," Kelleth said. "Our animals won't be able to sniff them out and we'll have to do it the hard way. But don't worry, we're good at it. We'll get the gloves back."

"We never met the minstrels," Chantry said, "which could be handy when we catch up with them, but we'll need to know what they look like."

"There are four of them," Light of Heavens answered. "The lead singer, who does the fire-eating act too, is a Fire Genasi girl. About your height, brown skin, orange eyes, and her hair is kinda white-blonde with flames flickering in it. Usually wears a long yellow dress. You can't mistake her."

"Her name is Azahr," Sa'Sani put in. "I spoke to them, on occasion, in the inn."

Light of Heavens nodded. "That's right. Anyway, there's another girl, a wood elf, about my height, dark hair, green eyes, pouts pretty much all the time, wears green leathers. No visible weapons but from the way she stands I'd say she's a fencer. Rapier, maybe short-sword, or maybe a knife-fighter. Her name's Lilo."

"Lila," Sa'Sani corrected her.

"I guess that would be right," Light of Heavens acknowledged. "The lute player is a guy called Venn, a half-elf, pretty short for a guy, and he's bald. Maybe he shaves his head, he seems too young to have gone bald, but then again he always wears a hat with a feather in it, so, maybe it is baldness. And the drummer, well tantan player, is a human guy, dark hair, with a beard clipped real short. His name's William."

"With that to go on we'll have no problem identifying them," said Kelleth. "It shouldn't take us long to prepare and then we shall be off in pursuit."

Aysgarth pursed his lips and tweaked his beard between finger and thumb. "We should expect fire spells," he said. "I shall prepare suitable wards. And Cold spells for offensive use."

"Do that," said Kelleth.

"You'd better be ready for a hard fight," Light of Heavens warned. "Bards can be freaking dangerous."

"That's not a problem," said Kelleth. "So can we."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"Well, that's not what I was expecting," Kelleth said.

"Nor me," Chantry agreed. The trail had led them to a log cabin in the forest. Not a little crude hut, the dwelling of a woodcutter or charcoal-burner, but a large structure that was more like a mini-mansion. The light that shone forth from the windows, into the gloom of the forest at dusk, was the steady glow of Light spells rather than the flickering illumination from candles or firelight. "Who in the Hells lives here? It's like… the summer retreat for some Lord or merchant prince. The kind of place he'd come for a ten-day break, to hunt wild boar by day, and to shag floozies by night."

"Now how would you know about things like that?" Kelleth said.

Chantry managed, barely, to restrain herself from spitting out 'Before the Plague I'd have been one of the fucking floozies, you obtuse twat!' Instead she contented herself with saying "I read the scandal columns in the broadsheets."

Kelleth wasn't listening. "We can't just burst in and put the occupants to the sword. It might be exactly what you described and the bards be playing for the Lord's entertainment."

"A legitimate gig booked for the night after they get the chance to steal the gauntlets?" Chantry shook her head. "That's pushing the bounds of coincidence a little far, don't you think?"

"I mean turning up and offering to play, not having an advance booking," Kelleth said. "Although they came straight here. They knew about this place and so, presumably, know the owner."

"Or they are the owners," Thorpe suggested.

"Why would any bard live out in the wilds, so far from any audience," Aysgarth wondered, "or thieves so far from anything to steal? I think not. However speculation will get us nowhere. We need to go inside to investigate."

"And immediately get our throats cut," Chantry said pessimistically.

"The bards don't know us," Kelleth reminded her. "We could be anyone."

"So, what, we walk up and knock on the door?"

Kelleth shrugged. "I can hear music coming from inside. It sounds as if they're having a party. Let's – what's the expression? – gatecrash it. We'd better leave the animals outside, though, they're a little too exotic for these parts."

"I shall stay and look after them," Umoja volunteered, "and come to the rescue if necessary."

"Good thinking," said Kelleth. "Aysgarth, Chantry, buff us up with things that don't show. No Stoneskins, or anything like that, just blessings and Bull's Strength and so on."

"Will do," said Chantry. "Okay, tonight we're going to party like it's thirteen ninety-nine."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The door was opened by a muscle-bound thug whose features showed distinct signs of orcish ancestry. "Who the fuck are you?" he grunted. "Thought all the guests were already here."

"We're a late addition to the guest list," Chantry said, in her most sensuous voice. Her face was invisible under her helm and her figure, even under the armor, was still as spectacular as ever. The guard sucked in his stomach, stood up straight, and smiled. Before he could ask any more questions Aysgarth had cast a Charm Person spell on him.

"Tell me, my friend," the wizard said, "who owns this cabin and what is the occasion being celebrated?"

"Guildmaster Axel Devrie owns this place, Master," the guard answered, his tone now obsequious, "but he is not here tonight."

"Thank the gods," Thorpe muttered.

"The bard Azahr is having a party to celebrate her nicking the Gauntlets of Ironfist," the guard went on, "and at the end she'll auction them off. Bidders are here from all over."

"Including us," said Aysgarth.

"Who should I announce, Master?" asked the guard.

Aysgarth hesitated and exchanged glances with Kelleth. Before either could answer Chantry pre-empted them.

"The representatives of Her Most Debilitating Holiness Sumia, High Priestess of Talona," she said, dropping the seductive voice and adopting an imperious tone, and took off her helm.

"Good thinking," Thorpe murmured. "She could have found out through an Augury."

Whether because of his orcish blood, or because he was beguiled by the spell, the guard showed no signs of being repulsed by Chantry's face. "Of course, Mistress," he said.

"Don't bother announcing us, we'll introduce ourselves," Chantry went on. "Just stay at your post."

"Yes, do that," Aysgarth confirmed.

"Very well, Master," said the guard. He stood aside and let them walk past.

"Who's this Axel character?" Kelleth asked Thorpe under his breath.

"Boss of the Neverwinter Thieves' Guild," the rogue replied, equally quietly. "Respectable businessman as far as the Watch knows, cultured bloke with manners like a gentleman, but not somebody you want to cross. Now shut your mouth and follow Chantry's lead. She's hit the right note and it looks like we'll pull this off okay."

The first room they came to was a dining room, with trestle tables and benches, and a sumptuous buffet was laid out for the guests. Only a couple of people were there, busily tucking in, and they paid little attention to Kelleth's party. Presumably they believed that, as the guard had let them pass, the group must be legitimate. Beyond the eating area was the main hall. Eight richly-clad men, and one hard-faced woman in a silken gown, sat around the edges of the room. Burly bodyguards stood beside their bosses. The center of the room was clear of furniture, apparently for dancing, and that was where Chantry saw the girl who could only have been Azahr.

She was dancing, without a partner, either for her own enjoyment or to entertain the guests. Two men fitting the descriptions of Venn and William provided the music, a simple tune with a repetitive beat, and Azahr swayed and gyrated in the middle of the floor. She had discarded her usual long dress in favor of an abbreviated halter top and a skirt that barely reached her knees. Few of the male guests even glanced away from her for a second to register the presence of the new arrivals.

Azahr was more alert, not being a distraction to herself, and halted her dance. "Newcomers?" she greeted them. "I expected no-one who is not already here. Least of all a priestess of Talona."

"Word reached Her Most Debilitating Holiness Sumia of your auction," Chantry claimed, "and she sent me to bid on her behalf."

"Oh?" The brown-skinned girl arched an eyebrow, flames flickering along the line of white, and she smiled. "What is your name, Talontar?"

"Chantry Linton," Chantry replied. She saw little point in lying; her connection with Crossroad Keep was too recent for word to have spread, whereas her identity as a Priestess of Talona, and thus a logical person to represent Sumia, was no secret.

"I suspected as much," Azahr said. "I believe I could probably name your companions too. Your friend Volo was rather talkative." Her smile turned into a snarl. "Kill them."

'Damn Volo to the Hells!' Chantry thought, and began to speak the words of a spell. She saw, from the corner of her eye, Kelleth's scimitars coming out and him turning to face an onrushing thug. Then, before her spell was complete, her hair was seized and tugged hard. Her head jerked back. She caught a fleeting glimpse of a slim female hand, holding a gleaming dagger, and then felt a burning pain in her throat. 'Lila!' she thought, and then her limbs lost their strength and her vision dimmed. The last thing she saw in this life was a spray of her own arterial blood.

The next thing she saw was the City of the Dead.


	8. Made In Heaven

**Chapter Eight: Made In Heaven**

_Listen now, there's no time to explain  
I've been here such a short time, I will be here again  
If you hear my voice in the darkness, if you hear my words in the rain  
Don't be afraid, it only says you did not wait in vain_

(Big Country, _Made In Heaven_)

The ground was grey, flat, and featureless. It stretched away to infinity, without even a visible horizon, in all directions except one. In that direction lay the City of Judgment. Of the buildings in the city only one, a high tower seemingly made of smoked glass, was visible. The rest of the city was hidden behind an encircling wall, higher than the city walls of Neverwinter, made up of irregularly shaped slabs.

Chantry shuddered. The Wall of the Faithless. The grim place where those who worshipped no god were interred, conscious but immobile, as bricks in the Wall until their souls were eaten away to nothing by the vile moss that formed the Wall's mortar. A terrible fate that might have been Chantry's, if Sumia had not pulled her back from the brink of death; for those rejected by their god, as Chantry had been rejected by Sune for the heinous sin of losing her beauty, counted as Faithless.

She turned her back on the dread Wall. There was, however, nothing else at which to look. Only the empty plains. The City of Judgment was the only place departed souls could go unless they were collected by servants of their deity. Or were resurrected.

Chantry hoped that Kelleth and the others would win their fight and have her Raised. She did have a reason to believe that it would happen; the crazy elf woman's vision, about Chantry being tortured by a Yuan-ti Abomination, couldn't come true if she stayed dead. That was… reassuring, in the weirdest possible way, although Chantry didn't really trust prophetic visions.

The matter of resurrection was out of Chantry's hands. There was nothing that she could do, for the time being, other than wait. Unfortunately patience wasn't something Chantry possessed to any great degree. Her boredom threshold was so low that it could walk under a weasel without stooping. It might possibly be as long as ten days before she was collected by an agent of her goddess, unless she was resurrected first, and there didn't seem to be anything to do here. She wondered what worldly goods she'd brought with her into the afterlife; she'd had a couple of books in her pack…

She saw something moving, out of the corner of her eye, and turned to look. She forgot about reading material and stared. Figures were materializing out of nowhere. Men, clad in sea-boots and long coats, seeming to drop out of thin air and land on the ground. The rain of men went on for several seconds and then, when her count reached eleven, stopped. The first thing each of the men did, after landing, was to put a hand to his neck and rub it.

"Arrr, shipmates," exclaimed one, "where in the Hells are we?"

"Well, seeing as how they were hanging us, matey," another answered, "I'd say we're in the Realm of the Dead."

"Arrr, that be certain sure," said another. "We're in the Nether World. And I doubt anyone will be Raising our corpses this time. We're here to stay."

"Bugger!" growled a bearded man. "Stay forever in this grey flat land with no sea? That be cruel and unusual punishment, shipmates. There has to be something better than this."

"And indeed there is, me hearties," a female voice chimed in. Chantry jumped. She hadn't seen the woman arrive but suddenly, out of nowhere, there she was. An extremely tall woman, maybe over six and a half feet, with pure white skin and hair of a dark blue-green shade. She wore britches and high wide-topped sea-boots, a coat with golden epaulettes on its shoulders, and a tricorn hat topped with a feather plume. A cutlass hung at her side. "I'll be taking ye to port, lads, and there be taverns a-plenty there. Ale, and wenches, and hearty shipmates. And when ye be tired of life ashore, mateys, I've a fleet of fair ships for ye to sail. Wide seas and fair winds."

"Arrr, that's more like it," one of the men said in approving tones. "And you're a comely wench, if a bit tall, and I'll be hoping to see you in one of the…" He broke off as one of the other men elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Ye've no respect, Feegyn," hissed the second man. "D'you not know who that is? Forgive him, your Majesty, he's a bit slow."

"Majesty?" Feegyn's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped. So did Chantry's; it had just dawned on her who the woman must be. Feegyn dropped to one knee and bowed his head. "Sorry, your Majesty," he said. "I meant no offence."

The woman – no, goddess, Chantry realized – threw back her head and laughed. "None taken," she said, "and call me Admiral. Or perhaps," she added, suddenly changing form into a blue-skinned, white-haired, woman dressed after the style of Ophala from the Moonstone Mask, "call me Madam. Or then again," and she transformed again, this time into her traditional aspect of a woman's torso atop a pillar of water that substituted for legs, "using Your Majesty is perfectly correct."

Umberlee, the Bitch Queen, goddess of the sea. Chantry's jaw dropped open even further. She saw the dead pirates going down on their knees and wondered if she should follow suit. She was fifty yards away from the goddess, and not one of her worshippers, but perhaps at least some sort of genuflection might be in order. A curtsey wasn't appropriate, as Chantry was in full armor, and so she dipped in a formal bow.

It was something of a surprise to her that she could even see Umberlee. She had been taught that newly-arrived souls in the Realm of the Dead could only perceive agents of their own deity; a protective measure to ensure that they couldn't be misled, and taken away, by hostile gods. The only exception was for the devils that were permitted, by agreement with Kelemvor, to bargain with those destined for the Wall of the Faithless and to offer them an alternative, marginally less grim, fate. Other deities should, according to accepted theology, be invisible to her. There must be some sort of arrangement between the Bridesmaids that they could act as each others' agents; maybe Umberlee would collect Chantry, as well as the pirates, and drop her off at the Palace of Poison Tears on the way to Fury's Heart… no, to Port Fury, Chantry corrected herself, as she remembered the new name of Umberlee's citadel on the Blood Sea.

Actually, Chantry mused, it would be more interesting if the journey was the other way around. It would be fascinating to see Umberlee's realm. Rumor had it that what had once been a bleak and barren rock, in a storm-tossed and shark-infested sea, was now a vibrant and thriving community modeled on Spindrift Town in the Pirate Isles. Chantry would like to see it for herself – and it wasn't likely she'd get another chance. A once in a death-time opportunity.

And it wasn't an opportunity Chantry would get in this death-time. A voice spoke behind her.

"Greetings, Chantry Linton."

Chantry turned around and saw a woman, no taller than herself, clad in a coat of fine white cloth over a crisp linen shirt and a knee-length charcoal-grey skirt. A strange device was looped around her neck; a long cord, or perhaps a flexible tube, with an odd disc-shaped object at one end and at the other something shaped like an elongated pair of pincers. Her face was as badly scarred as Chantry's own; this, then, must be the emissary of Talona.

"Greetings, my Lady," Chantry said, dipping her head respectfully.

"You will be Raised shortly," the woman said, "and so it's not worth me taking you on to Poison Tears Teaching Hospital, but perhaps we might talk over a coffee?"

Chantry nodded. "Thank you, ma'am, that would be pleasant," she said, still unaware of the identity of the one to whom she was speaking, and then something occurred to her. "Poison Tears _Teaching Hospital_?"

"I gave the Palace of Poison Tears a new, more appropriate, name."

"_You_ gave…" Chantry dropped to her knees as realization struck. "Forgive me, Majesty, I did not know."

"That is understandable, Chantry," the goddess Talona said. "There are as yet no portraits in the temples showing me in my present guise. Something that I shall rectify in the near future. Arise, Chantry Linton, my High Priestesses need not kneel before me. And you may call me… Doctor."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Chantry opened her eyes very wide and looked around. One second she had been on the featureless plain outside the City of Judgment, the next second she was… somewhere else. Inside a building, a tavern of some kind, but not one she had ever seen before. The furniture was unfamiliar in style, chairs with tubular frames of polished metal and tables topped by sheets of smooth glass, and everything matched with a precision seen only in the houses of the wealthiest of lords. The pleasant scent of coffee filled the room. At the innermost side of the room was a long counter, staffed by serving maids, and on the wall behind the counter was a circular sign bearing a device unfamiliar to Chantry; a stylized picture of a woman, in stark black and white, surrounded by a green ring bearing a legend in white letters.

'SHARBUCKS COFFEE'

"One Caramel Macchiato for me," Talona called out to the serving maid, "I think an Espresso Macchiato for my guest, and whatever is Egeria's usual. She'll be joining us shortly."

"Coming right up," the server responded. "One Caramel Macchiato, one Espresso Macchiato, and one Espresso Con Panna." She was a winged female of human size, probably a Celestial of some kind, and she was wearing a plain black button-less shirt emblazoned with a portrait of Eilistraee, against a background of the moon, and the legend '_The_ REAL _Moon Goddess: accept no substitutes_'. She pulled levers, resulting in hissing noises and plumes of steam, and began to fill beautiful glass cups with coffee.

Talona took a seat at a table and Chantry, still somewhat stunned by the way her goddess was treating her, followed suit. Then something that Talona had said earlier sank home.

"Uh… uh… Your Majesty… uh, Doctor… did you say '_High_ Priestess'?" she stammered out.

"I did," Talona confirmed. "You've been promoted. You'll still be answerable to Sumia, who is the second-highest ranking of all my priestesses in Faerûn behind only Lady Doom Thalaera Indlerith, but you may give orders to all others of my clergy within Neverwinter and Samarach. You may style yourself Most Debilitating Holiness. And I will grant you your own personal demon servant."

Chantry would have bowed low but that wasn't possible when sitting at the table. She had to restrict herself to bowing her head. "You honor me greatly, Your… Doctor… but I cannot believe I deserve this promotion."

Talona's lips curled up in a wry smile. "You came very close to losing it when you killed Finch. That was most definitely not in accordance with my will."

Chantry's mouth dropped open. "B-but he was a Sunite," she protested. "He would have won converts to her abominable faith. You know how persuasive bards can be; look at what the Rupert Giles Experience, and Sharwyn, have done. Finch has the reputation of being not far behind them in skill."

Talona clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Exactly," she said. "The plan was to convert _him_. We can't do that now he's dead. I had hoped he'd be Raised; I Neutralized your poison, personally, before the village priest cast his spell. Unfortunately you can't Raise someone who doesn't want to come back and Sune no doubt surrounded him with scantily-clad and willing babes to keep him content. He refused to be resurrected, not surprisingly, and he's hers permanently now." She fell silent, merely staring at Chantry, as the Celestial serving-wench brought a tray of coffee-cups to the table.

"I'm sorry," Chantry said, miserably. She had let down her goddess; that Talona was being so nice to her, and had promoted her regardless, just made it hurt worse. "I had no idea."

"I know," said Talona, "and that's why I'm forgiving you. Now, forget about it, and drink your coffee. Egeria will be here any – ah, here she comes now."

Chantry had heard tales of the Right Hand of Shar, including hearing from Sumia of Egeria's appearance nude and dripping wet at the battle against Queen Morag of the Sarrukh, but she'd never expected to see Egeria for herself. She turned and saw seven feet of leather-clad winged female striding into the coffee bar. And not alone; Egeria was accompanied by three other striking women. The unmistakable figure of Eilistraee, a silver-haired ebony beauty matching Egeria in height; a slim and graceful girl with blue and green hair, clad in a gown of green silk and with bare feet, who Chantry did not recognize; and a powerfully-built woman of about six foot eight, wearing the green and brown leathers of a Ranger, whose hair was red-brown and curling over her shoulders.

The latter woman waved to Talona. "What's up, Doc?" she called.

Talona rolled her eyes. "Yes, very droll," she said. "Ei mitään oikastaan, Mielikki. Tervetuloa. Are you joining us?"

"Later, perhaps," Mielikki replied. "Complete your business with your petitioner first. Nähdään myöhemmin, Egeria."

Chantry realized that she was gawping, open-mouthed, and hastily shut her mouth. She didn't want to look like an idiot, or a naïve country bumpkin, in front of her goddess. Yet this was astonishing. Astounding. Yes, it was official dogma in the Reformed Church of Talona that their goddess had ended her centuries-old feud with Mielikki, but Chantry had always believed that it was simply a matter of Shar commanding both of them to cease hostilities – she could hardly have had two of her bridesmaids at each other's throats, after all – and the less powerful goddesses gritting their teeth and acquiescing. What she had just observed told a different story. That had been friendly banter; Talona and Mielikki might not be as close as, say, Shar and Eilistraee, or Lliira and Waukeen, but certainly they weren't bitter foes barely tolerating each other.

Being dead was certainly proving to be an interesting experience and she would have astounding tales to relate to Volo back at Crossroad Keep. Perhaps, she feared, too incredible to be believed; even if Volo believed her, his readers would undoubtedly assume that he was making everything up.

Egeria took a seat, beside Talona, at the same time as the serving maid arrived at the table with a tray holding three cups of coffee. The cup that was placed in front of Chantry looked much like any other coffee, except that the surface was strangely frothy, but the other two cups were… exotic. Talona's beverage was topped with a creamy froth decorated with a spider-web lattice of golden brown. The glass cup given to Egeria contained dark coffee with a hefty topping of whipped cream floating on the top like an iceberg in the Sea of Moving Ice.

Chantry had a thousand questions that she would have liked to ask. How was it possible to drink coffee when you were dead? Was this place open to everyone, after death, or was she only being admitted because she was in Talona's company? Were Talona and Mielikki really friends now? And how was Egeria going to drink her coffee without her upper lip becoming covered in a thick layer of cream? She didn't dare ask anything, however, and so she waited to be addressed.

"Recount to us what transpired in your dealings with the followers of Zehir," Talona commanded, "and all that you have learned about them. We are bound by rules in this matter and, although we know all that has occurred, we can only act on what is reported to us by our mortal agents."

Chantry obeyed. She described the first encounter and then paused to take a drink of her coffee as Talona and Egeria engaged in a discussion about her report. Handling the cup while wearing her mailed gauntlets was awkward and so she slipped them off… and then froze, staring at her hands, horrified.

"What is wrong, child?" Talona asked.

Chantry's hands went to her face. Yes, the pits and scars were still there. "I… thought… I'd be restored to my former self in the Afterlife," she said. "If I have to face an eternity like this… how will I bear it?"

"There will be no such need," Talona assured her. "You will not be restored immediately – Lord Ao forbids such things, lest suicide become seen as the easy option for mortals who have suffered permanent injury – but I shall see to your restoration when I am allowed."

"Thank you, my Lady," Chantry said, wondering what Talona meant by 'when I am allowed'. She took a drink from her cup of coffee. It was very tasty, better than any she had had in Neverwinter, although not quite up to the standard of Sa'Sani's private stock of Chultan coffee.

"Now continue your report," Talona commanded. "Your companions will have you Raised before too long, and we must be finished by then, and Egeria will be giving you a message to convey to Light of Heavens."

Chantry dipped her head. "Yes, my Lady – Doctor," she assented. "Right, when we caught up with Luaire in the Chokemist Caves…"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Chantry opened her eyes and was surprised to see the crazy elf lady looking down at her. Well, that explained why it had taken them much longer to Raise her than she had expected. And brought a disturbing possibility to mind.

"Is Umoja alright?" she asked.

"I am fine, Chantry," the druid's voice answered, and Umoja came into her field of view with Yushai padding at his heels. "I could not use your scrolls of Raise Dead and so Kelleth rode to Crossroad Keep to bring back a cleric."

Chantry nodded. That made sense. The alternative would have been to carry her body back to the Keep and, as horses wouldn't tolerate the presence of Yushai and Silent Stalker, they'd have had to do it on foot. "It hadn't occurred to me that you wouldn't be able to use the scrolls," she said. "Is everyone else alright?"

"There were injuries," Umoja said, "but nothing I could not heal."

"He saved our bacon," Thorpe put in. "We were losing until he burst in with the animals."

Chantry climbed to her feet and looked around. Yes, everyone was there and with all their appendages attached. Kelleth's armor was gashed in a couple of places but that was all. There were two people present who weren't part of Kelleth's band; the crazy elf lady, of course, and also – unexpectedly, and very conveniently – Light of Heavens.

Professional courtesy, however, dictated that Chantry should thank the crazy elf seer for her resurrection before she did anything else.

"You are welcome," the elf – Chantry had never gotten around to asking her name, and couldn't be bothered to do so now – replied. "I have been paid for my services. And it shows that even death cannot save you from your destiny."

"Uh, right," Chantry said, feeling like backing away slowly while faking a smile. "Thanks, anyway." She moved on to the more agreeable task of greeting her friends.

"How are you feeling, Chantry?" Kelleth asked. "Are you up to travelling?"

"Well, I could do with using the privy, and I wouldn't say no to a hot bath," Chantry replied, "but I can wait until we get back to Crossroad Keep. For the bath, that is, not the privy."

"We're not going straight back," Kelleth said. "It would make more sense for us to continue on to Neverwinter."

Chantry pursed her lips. "I would have thought we headed quite a way east of the road to Neverwinter, but you're the expert."

"We did go more east than north, yes, and indeed we're not much closer to Neverwinter than is Crossroad Keep," Kelleth admitted, "but it would be a waste of time to go back to the Keep and then set out again. I brought the pearls, and a set of instructions on what we're to do with them, so we're all set. We can cut across to Thundertree, stay overnight there, and then go along the Thunder Trail to Neverwinter."

"Like I said, you're the expert," Chantry agreed. "That's fine with me. I can bathe either here or at Thundertree. It's not urgent; there are self-cleaning cantrips on my armor." She turned to Thorpe. "Did we pick up any good stuff here?"

"Nothing in your line," Thorpe answered. "Some good saleable stuff, and a few pieces I can use, but… oh, wait, the fiery bint had a pair of Boots of Striding that'll probably fit you."

"Excellent," Chantry said. "They'll make these damn treks through the forest more bearable, as well as meaning I can take more punishment in a fight before I pass out. I take it we found Khelgar's gauntlets?"

"We did," Kelleth confirmed. "I didn't take them with me when I rode to the Keep – just in case anything happened to me – but Light of Heavens will be taking them back."

"Speaking of which," Light of Heavens said, glancing at the slim Earth timepiece on her wrist, "I'd better be going. We'll have a reward waiting for you when you get back from Neverwinter."

"Thanks," said Kelleth. "I'd be happy with just a couple more lessons from you. I used that move you showed me against the toughest of the bodyguards and it worked like a charm."

"It usually does," Light of Heavens said, "but there is a counter. I'll show it to you later, and teach you what to do if someone uses it against you, but right now I really must go. So if you'll just hand over the Ironfist gauntlets…"

"Wait a moment," Chantry said. "I have a message for you."

"Oh?" Light of Heavens arched an eyebrow. "Let's hear it, then."

"It's… private," Chantry said.

"Oh?" Light of Heavens said again. She glanced around. "Okay, we'll go into that back room." She led the way and Chantry followed.

"You've just come back from being dead, and you say you have a message for me, so I'm guessing you're on a mission from a god," Light of Heavens said, once they were in the room and had closed the door, "even though you're not wearing sunglasses."

Chantry tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. "Pardon?" she said. "My message is indeed from a deity, or at least a demi-deity, but I don't understand the reference to sunglasses. I lost mine in the shipwreck in Chult and I haven't found anywhere I can buy a replacement pair yet."

"Just a cultural reference from somewhere else," Light of Heavens said. "I should have brought Joy with me. She'd have gotten it. Just forget I said anything. A demi-deity, you said? Egeria, maybe?"

"Indeed so," Chantry confirmed. "I met her while I was dead. We had coffee together, strange as it may seem, in a celestial tavern named Sharbucks."

Light of Heavens burst out laughing. "Sharbucks? You so have to be kidding, right? No, you wouldn't know about Starbucks, so it's Shar who's doing the kidding. Okay, what did Eggy have to say?"

"Eggy?" Chantry's jaw dropped. Light of Heavens was calling the Right Hand of Shar, one of the most powerful non-deities in existence, by a disrespectful nickname.

"I mangle names," Light of Heavens said. "It's a thing. She doesn't mind – hey, you should hear what she calls me. I was her unarmed combat instructor. Come on, what did she say?"

Chantry managed to close her mouth, swallowed, and took a deep breath. "Uh, yes. Right. She said that she's arranging for someone to repair the portal and they should be at the Keep within a few days."

Light of Heavens grinned. "Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I was worried that I might have to go trekking off to the Voice of the Lost at short notice. But there has to be more to it than that. Like, there's no way the portal repair guy coming is some big secret."

"Indeed so," said Chantry. "It is only the rest of the message that I was told was for you, and for your sister, but that Khelgar was on no account to hear. Although it was so incomprehensible to me that I think it must be in some sort of code."

Light of Heavens' expression turned serious. "Okay, let's hear it."

Chantry complied, her forehead furrowing as she concentrated on repeating the message as accurately as she could, and at the end she asked "Did you really understand all that?"

Light of Heavens grinned at her. "Sure thing. Hey, it was me that made up most of the nicknames. The thing is, I've used some of them in front of Khelgar and he might catch on to what it's about. That could cause problems 'cause he'd want to get involved and, well, Nasher wouldn't like it. And if we told him he couldn't come along he'd get all upset."

"Which implies that the message is about the Knight-Captain," Chantry deduced, "for there is no-one else with such a strong claim on Khelgar's loyalty."

"Yeah, you got me there," Light of Heavens admitted. "I know she's alive, I know where she is, and I'll be joining her as soon as I get the word. And, yeah, I'd love it if Khelgar could come but I've been told it's a no-no. So he's not to hear anything about it. 'Kay?"

"My goddess told me to obey Egeria's commands," Chantry said, "and she told me to tell only you or your sister. I will say naught to anyone else."

"Great," said Light of Heavens. "Thanks. Now, I'd best be going. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"I learned a few interesting things while I was dead," Chantry told the others, as they made their way through Neverwinter Wood toward Thundertree. "For instance, I found out why that Tear of Selûne exploded."

"Oh?" Aysgarth turned his head to stare at her and, as a result, he stepped off the path and almost crashed into a tree. "Tell me more."

"Zehir," Chantry said. "He has an immense spelljammer ship, nearly half a mile in length, equipped with energy weapons like the one we found but much bigger and more powerful. It passed near Journey's Legg and the neogi sent out Deathspiders to attack it. They were wiped out and Zehir's ship then destroyed their home base."

"If I remember my lessons correctly," Aysgarth said, "Journey's Legg was eight miles across. It was destroyed?"

"Totally vaporized," Chantry confirmed. "There were no survivors."

Aysgarth grimaced. "A good thing in itself," he said, "for the neogi were hideous monsters and vile slavers, but I shudder to think of a weapon that could cause such destruction."

"My goddess warned me that Zehir's vessel could reduce all Neverwinter to rubble and cinders with but a single blast," Chantry said. "Also it carries more than a thousand soldiers all armed with those energy staffs."

"Hmm," said Kelleth, "such numbers would more than make up for the inaccuracy of the weapons. The army of Neverwinter could not hope to stand before them and survive."

"I hope nobody expects us to fight them," Thorpe said. "Being incinerated by the soldiers of an alien god isn't the way I'd planned to die."

"Oh? What is?" Chantry enquired.

"Heart attack after spending six hours shagging three beautiful Halfling maidens," Thorpe said, "at the age of a hundred and thirty-eight."

Chantry rolled her eyes. "Well, if these aliens – Jaffa, the soldiers are called – incinerate you at least it will be sparing three maidens an unpleasant experience."

"Yeah, it will be terrible for them, losing me like that," Thorpe said, "but it's the way I want to go."

"I, too, do not plan on dying for many years," said Aysgarth, "and the thought of taking on impossible odds is not a pleasant one."

"There is help coming," Chantry assured him. "We only have to do what we can."

"That is good to know," said Umoja. "What is this help and when may we expect it?"

"That has not been revealed to me," Chantry replied, "only that we will know it when we see it."

"Light of Heavens?" suggested Kelleth.

"I don't think so," Chantry said. "She has her own mission and I don't think it's anything to do with ours."

"She's a bit… odd, that Light of Heavens girl," Thorpe commented. "I'd heard she came from Amn but I've known quite a few Amnians, from when I lived in Baldur's Gate, and none of them talked like her."

"I had heard that she was a Celestial," Aysgarth said, "but it is plain that she is human." He turned his head to look at Chantry. "Her speech is full of expressions that I have otherwise heard only from you. 'Okay', for instance."

"It means 'yes', or 'very well', or 'everything is fine'," Chantry said.

"I know perfectly well what it means," Aysgarth said, "having heard you using it for the past three months. But how came you to adopt it into your speech?"

"From being a fan of the Rupert Giles Experience," Chantry said. "I thought it was an Amnian expression. Sharwyn says it, too, and she spent some time in Amn." Her brow furrowed. "Although… I think I heard Colonel O'Neill say it, once, so maybe it's really an Earth word."

"There's a lass from Amn working at Crossroad Keep, I think," Thorpe said. "Runs the iron smelting plant. Maybe we could ask her about Light of Heavens when we get back."

"I think that probing into Light of Heavens' background might be an extraordinarily bad idea," Kelleth cautioned. "She's the best fighter I've ever seen – and I saw the Knight-Captain in action once, remember."

"She told me that she taught unarmed combat to Egeria, the Right Hand of Shar," Chantry said. "I have a feeling that I might know who Light of Heavens really is – but I'm not going to say a word. I don't want her to rip my arms off and beat me to death with them."

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

Five arrows hissed through the air. One struck the elf seer in the shoulder and pierced her mithral hauberk. She cried out in pain and swayed in the saddle.

The other four were aimed at Light of Heavens. She left her horse in a rolling dive before they reached her and the arrows swished through empty space.

"Hey, that's not nice," she said, slipping her war hammer from her belt. "What did Soraevora ever do to you?" Her right arm blurred as she threw the hammer into the undergrowth. When it magically returned to her hand its head was red with blood.

"She is a traitor to the Elven cause," one of the attackers answered, as he emerged from the cover of the trees. He was a Sun Elf, pale of skin and fair of hair, and he was armed with longsword and shield. "She returned from Evermeet to work alongside humans, and dwarves, instead of striving to drive them out of lands that rightfully belong to the Elves." Two other Elven warriors, a man and a woman, came out to stand alongside him.

Another salvo of arrows flew out of the trees. Four this time; three aimed at Light of Heavens and one at Soraevora. Light of Heavens sidestepped, avoiding two of the arrows with casual ease, and snatched the third out of the air before it could strike her. The other arrow would have hit the seer but struck an invisible shield and bounced off harmlessly.

"Don't tell me, you're the Eldreth Veluuthra," Light of Heavens said. "This world's version of the Ku Klux Klan, only with less cross-burning and pointy white hoods and more pointy ears. Racist bigotry quotient about the same."

"We are indeed members of the Victorious Blade of the People, human," said the spokesman.

"Sworn to secrecy, right? So there's not much point in me taking you alive to ask questions," Light of Heavens mused. "I'm not big on torture. I guess I'll just kill you." She threw the hammer again, aiming at the place from which one of the arrows had came, and this time there was brain matter on the head when it returned to her hand. "Eww! Gross."

"By the bow of Shevarash, this one is deadly!" the spokesman exclaimed. "Laethir! Irtani! Neutralize her, quickly."

The plants at Light of Heavens' feet rose up and grasped at her ankles. Simultaneously a cloud of greenish-grey vapor billowed up with her at its center. Her horse whinnied, tossed its head, and trotted a few paces away from the cloud before coming to a halt once more.

Soraevora, who was in the middle of healing herself, rushed the spell and almost lost it. She managed to complete the spell successfully and was about to cast a Dispel Magic on Light of Heavens when she realized that the human woman was laughing.

"Permanent Free Action," Light of Heavens said, walking forward and ignoring both the Entanglement spell and the Cloudkill, "and I'm immune to poison. You have no idea who I am, do you? Otherwise you'd have brought more than five archers, two spellcasters, and three swordsmen. You'd have brought an army." She dodged another two arrows during her speech without even missing a beat.

"You are Light of Heavens, lackey of Khelgar at Crossroad Keep," said the Eldreth Veluuthra spokesman. "You rarely leave the castle and so you must be on some important mission. What more do we need to know?"

"A lot," Light of Heavens said, "but it's not like you're going to find it out." She hooked the hammer onto its belt sling and quickened her pace. Her left hand went to the scabbard of her sword, tilting it forward, and her thumb pressed up on the sword's crossguard. "The lesson today is… how to die!"

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

"The city is under martial law," said the guard officer at the Neverwinter city gate, "and only citizens of Neverwinter may enter without a pass. A temporary pass may be obtained by donating two hundred nobles to the city defense fund."

"Two hundred nobles?" Kelleth exclaimed. "That's two years' wages for a farm laborer."

"Or a domestic servant," Chantry added. "You cannot be serious."

"Oh, there are separate arrangements for people who come looking for work on the reconstruction projects," said the officer, "but that doesn't apply to you, does it? You're adventurers."

"I am a citizen," Kelleth said. "Born in Phandalin, and I served in the Neverwinter army in the Shadow War."

"And I'm Neverwinter born and bred," Chantry said, "so just open up the gates and let us in."

"Can you prove it?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Dulin," Chantry said, "you've been to my _house_. Don't you recognize my voice?"

"Bonna's sister? Chantry?"

"That's right," Chantry confirmed, "and you've seen me since the Wailing Death so you'll know why I'm not taking off my helmet. Open the gates and let us in."

"You may enter, of course, Chantry," said Dulin, "and so may the ranger, if he can prove his origins. But what of the others?"

"I am a citizen, Neverwinter born," Aysgarth declared. "Here is my graduation certificate from the Academy."

"It's a bit… stained," Dulin said. "It might be a forgery… and, as the Academy burned down and all the records were lost, there isn't any way of checking it."

"We were in a shipwreck," said Aysgarth. "I don't know what else I can produce. I have no living family in the city; my father was slain when the Githyanki attacked the City Archives, and my mother didn't return after the city was evacuated. She went to live with her sister in Waterdeep."

"I'm not a citizen," Thorpe said, "but I've lived in Neverwinter for three years. I came up with the Lords' Alliance fleet at the end of the Luskan War and I stayed on. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"I'm afraid not," said Dulin. "And what about the remaining member of your group? Somehow I doubt that he is a citizen of Neverwinter."

"Indeed I am not," Umoja admitted. "I am from Chult."

"Therefore a pass is necessary, unless you wish for only the citizens to enter," Dulin said, with a slight air of triumph. "Two hundred nobles, please."

"Oh, you mean two hundred for the whole party, not each?" Kelleth said. "That isn't quite so bad. Very well, then, we shall pay."

"I had better warn you," Dulin said, "that there are restrictions on travel within the city. Some sections are off-limits to non-citizens. The residential area of Blacklake District, the Peninsula District, and the Beggars' Nest are all out of bounds."

"What? I live in Blacklake," Chantry complained. "I was going to invite Umoja to stay with me. Are you saying that's not allowed?"

"I'm afraid so," Dulin told her. "The boundary has been set at the line between the Theater on the Lake and the Temple of Lathander. Only citizens may proceed down the hill from there. And your house is at the bottom of the hill."

Aysgarth turned to look at Chantry. "The lakeside properties are rather exclusive," he commented, his brow creased in a slight frown, "and expensive."

"I had noticed," Chantry said. "Don't worry, if I invite you around for dinner I'll tell my parents not to make you use the servants' entrance."

Kelleth opened his mouth to say something, glanced at Chantry, and then read something in the set of her shoulders that warned him that making his intended remark would get his head bitten off. Instead he took out a money pouch, tipped a heap of five-noble coins into his palm, and counted out forty of them. He handed the gold to Dulin without comment.

Dulin stamped and signed a pass, gave it to Kelleth, and then signaled to his men. The gate swung open.

– 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0 –

The air within the metallic ring that was the Stargate known as The Voice of the Lost shimmered as an incoming portal formed; the minor vortex of a local transit rather than the more spectacular display of an interstellar wormhole.

Sharwyn Laummyr stepped through holding a double-sword poised for action. She scanned her surroundings, saw no-one in the vicinity, and lowered her weapon. She walked across to the DHD and pressed down on seven of the symbols. The ring rotated, the chevrons locked, and the vortex billowed out with a 'kawoosh'.

Sharwyn stabbed down with the double-sword, impaling the earth near the DHD and holding the weapon upright, and then released the shaft so that she could open her pack. She took out the device given to her three years before by Jack O'Neill; a 'GDO', he had called it, and he had warned her not to attempt to travel to Earth without sending a signal with the GDO first. She operated it, as he had shown her, and waited until a light on the device's display showed that the signal had been received and acknowledged.

Sharwyn replaced the GDO in her pack, reached for the double-sword, and then hesitated and took out her guitar before retrieving the weapon. She walked to the Stargate, clenched her jaw and swallowed, and then stepped through.

The journey through space was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. It lasted only a few seconds and then she found herself standing on a flat platform at the head of a sloping metal ramp. A number of guards confronted her, training the Earth weapons called 'guns' in her direction, and beyond them stood a man whose bearing was that of a military officer.

"_I'm on another planet with you_," Sharwyn sang, as it seemed particularly appropriate to the occasion, and then she addressed the Earth people.

"Lower your guns, I am not here to do you harm," she said, the translation amulet at her throat converting her words into English. "I am Lady Sharwyn Laummyr and I wish to see Colonel Jack O'Neill, or his leader General Hammond."

The officer came a step closer. "Welcome to Earth," he greeted her. "I'm afraid General O'Neill and General Hammond are no longer here. I'm Major General Landry and I'm in charge of the SGC now."

Sharwyn smiled on hearing the news. "Jack's been promoted? That's great. Well, not great from my point of view, of course, but great for him. Please send him my congratulations."

At that moment some people well known to Sharwyn arrived in the large bare room. Samantha Carter, Teal'c, Daniel Jackson, and the Drow ranger Cierre. They were accompanied by a woman who had not been with them during SG-1's visit to Faerûn.

After greetings and introductions were concluded Sharwyn was escorted to a place the Earth people referred to as a 'briefing room'. Once there she stated the reason for her visit.

"The Goa'uld have discovered Toril," she told them. "They are invading by stealth. Their leader uses the name Zehir but my divine mistress tells me you know him as Anubis. He is a demi-god."

"Uh-oh," said Daniel Jackson. "I thought we'd seen the last of him. But she's going to kill him, right? She said she would."

Sharwyn shook her head. "She is barred from so doing," she told him. "He uses only the powers of a mortal of his kind. For her to attack him directly, while he sticks to that rule, would provoke conflict with the gods of other worlds and would thus incur the wrath of Lord Ao. She cannot risk that, not at this time, when so much is at stake."

"So much at stake?" Daniel queried, frowning. "More than letting your world be overrun by the Goa'uld?"

"Yes," Sharwyn said. Egeria, acting as Shar's messenger, had commanded her to say nothing about the Betrayer's Crusade, and its implications, and so she did not elaborate. "I can say no more at this time."

"I take it that the help you want is military?" General Landry asked.

"Indeed," Sharwyn answered, with a glance aside at Teal'c and a brief smile. "It can be summed up by something I said to SG-1 shortly after I met them for the first time." She shifted her gaze to Sam. "Load up on guns and bring your friends."

**To be continued…**

Mielikki and Talona's Finnish phrases:

Ei mitään oikastaan = Nothing much

Tervetuloa = Welcome

Nähdään myöhemmin = See you later

Author's Note: the last section is a reprise of the concluding section of _Debt of Blood_; if you haven't read that story you're going to be somewhat confused by forthcoming events in this one.

Light of Heavens (whose true identity you all should have guessed by now, if you've read _Tabula Avatar_) quotes from _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening_ by Robert Frost and from _I Don't Like Mondays_ by The Boomtown Rats. Sharwyn quotes from _Another Girl, Another Planet_ by The Only Ones and _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ by Nirvana.


End file.
